Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor
by samdeco
Summary: Over a bonfire in the Burrow's backyard one spring night, everyone starts spilling the stories of their first kisses. April 25th, 2000.
1. Charlie Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

_25__th__ April 2001_

The sun was setting in the horizon casting long shadows along the grass behind the Burrow. Molly Weasley had just completed another one of her famous Sunday night dinners—mandatory for every Weasley, and held outside when the weather was nice. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had retired to their beds early that night leaving Harry, Hermione, all six Weasleys, Alicia, Percy's girlfriend Audrey, and Fleur outside. The night was cool, and everyone was feeling full and sleepy thanks to Molly's delicious Spaghetti Bolognese.

"Let's get a fire going," Bill said waving his wand.

They dragged chairs around a roaring fire that seemed to appear from nowhere. Everyone was a little tipsy from dinner, but all the merrier.

"Anyone up for a drink?" Ron asked, "_Accio Firewhiskey!_"

Two bottles soared from the Burrow's kitchen window and towards Ron. He tried to catch them but fumbled and dropped them. He casually leaned down to pick them up.

They all sat down. Fleur needed a little help because she was nine months pregnant and due to pop sometime next week. No one knew if it was a boy or girl except for Bill and Fleur, and they weren't going to spill, much to Molly's displeasure

"Now I'll never geet up," she groaned but smiled pleasantly. "Bill can you bring me my water?"

When they were all seated, Ron conjured glasses that filled themselves with small doses of Firewhiskey and floated around the circle to their owners. He took the seat closest to Hermione and pecked her on the lips.

Bill took the moment as a chance to kiss Fleur lightly. She grabbed him tightly as all the stress of carrying a baby in her belly for nine months melted off of her.

Percy kissed Audrey passionately on the lips. She giggled and he tried for a second.

"Well let's not be a wet blanket," Ginny muttered in Harry's ear. They too exchanged a kiss.

"Oi!" Charlie exclaimed, "Enough with the love fest! This is not a game of spin-the-bottle!"

"Feeling left out mate?" George asked, taking a swig of Firewhiskey. He had his arm around Alicia Spinnet, an old friend who was his new girlfriend. "I only charge two sickles a kiss."

"He's only mad because he could never get a girl to kiss him," Ginny teased.

"I did too," Charlie said, fuming. "More than once for that matter!"

"Twice doesn't exactly count as more than once, Charlie," Bill joked.

Charlie gave Bill a rude hand gesture that his mum would have had a fit over.

"When did you have your first kiss Charlie?" Hermione asked.

"Fourth year!" Charlie said heatedly.

"Please, enlighten us," George said coaxing Bill on.

"Fine, but I'm going to need some more Firewhiskey," he took the last drink from his cup, and then Ron refilled it.

He stared deeply into the fire before starting.

* * *

><p>Charlie Weasley's favorite part of the day was Quidditch. He loved flying hundreds of feet in the air, where no one could touch him and he was free. The wind whistled through his hair when he flied—or at least he imagined it would, if his mum didn't make him cut it so darn short. His riding cloak billowed out behind him. He loved searching for the small Galleon-sized golden Snitch, which ended the game and gave his team 150 points. He loved the responsibility of being the soul person that ended the game. Charlie also loved floating on the air and staring down at one of the Gryffindor team Beaters, Melissa Sawyer.<p>

Melissa was like a goddess when she flew. Her dark-brown hair whipped behind her in the wind, stretching all the way down to her waist. Even though it got in her eyes, Melissa never wore her hair up. She was a year ahead of Charlie, in her fifth year, and almost every Gryffindor boy had a crush on her whether they wanted to admit it or not. Charlie was one of the guys who would never admit it.

"Charlie!" the team captain, Ignacio Henley would yell at him, if he neglected his seeking duties for too long, "Hurry up! We don't have all night!"

It was becoming a habit of Charlie's. He lingered outside the Gryffindor locker rooms near the Quidditch pitch, until Melissa would emerge, laughing amiably along with the other girls on the Quidditch team. Today he did the same.

The sun had almost set, and the moonlight cast a faint silvery glow over the well-kept Hogwarts lawn. Charlie was beginning to get a bit worried when Melissa's friends emerged from the locker room without her. He waited for nearly fifteen minutes before Melissa finally came out of the locker room.

In the light of the doorway of the locker room, he could clearly see Melissa even though he was hidden in the shadows. She was dressed up in taupe dress robes, and her hair was combed smooth.

"Melissa?" Charlie asked, still hidden in the shadows.

"Is that you?" she asked quite shyly.

Charlie hadn't known his crush on Melissa was mutual. Now she was standing there, in full dress robes, waiting for him. He knew he should do something, say something at least, but his mind was suddenly wiped free of all thoughts.

"Uh," he stammered.

"It's okay," she said quietly, moving from the light into the shadows where Charlie was standing. He could hardly believe it.

Suddenly, before he knew what was going on, she placed her lips on his. They lingered there for a moment, and the subtle smell of mangoes wafted into Charlie's nose.

Melissa broke away and looked at him adoringly—at first. Then her eyes bugged out of her head and she jumped nearly two feet in the air.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" she screeched.

Charlie backed swiftly away form her.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently enough.

"What do you mean what do I mean?" she demanded furiously. "Why did you let me kiss you? What were you doing out here at night anyway?"

Charlie stared deeply into his feet, wanting to melt from the scene.

"Sorry," Charlie mumbled inaudibly. "I thought…"

"Whatever you thought, you thought wrong!" she screamed at him. "Ugh, I can't believe you thought—" she cut off immediately. "Sorry never mind."

"What are you doing in those dress robes then?" Charlie asked.

It was Melissa's turn to admire her feet.

"If I tell you, do you swear not to tell anyone about this little incident…ever?" Melissa said quietly. Her tone was threatening, and it frightened Charlie a bit.

"Well I might have to tell Tonks," Charlie mumbled again.

"No one else though!" she exclaimed. As far as Charlie knew, Tonks and Melissa got on pretty well. At least, Tonks didn't roll her eyes _too_ many times when Charlie confided in her that he fancied Melissa.

Charlie nodded and waited for Melissa to continue.

She stood there for a moment: "I'm meeting someone. You know, for a date."

"Who?"

"Niles Hanley."

"The Slytherin?" Charlie asked incredulously, "He's rotten, Mel."

She shrugged, "He's supposed to meet me soon, so could you please get away from here?" she asked as kindly as possible.

Charlie stalked back to the castle feeling stupid. He knew Melissa wasn't trying to be rude, but he still felt bad. What did Hanley have that Charlie didn't have anyway?"

Tonks was waiting for him up in the common room.

"How was practice?" she asked immediately when he stepped through the portrait hole. "Oh," she said next, when she saw the defeated look on his face, "That good, eh?"

Charlie led her to a squashy armchair near in the corner of the common room. He didn't want to be overheard. Even though it was well past an appropriate bedtime by now, the common room was still littered with late-night homework-doers.

"Well she kissed me," he said quietly to Tonks.

Tonks hopped in her chair and grinned: "So what's the problem, Charlie? Did she have dungbomb breath or something?"

"No," Charlie said miserably, "She thought I was…someone else…that Slytherin boy, Niles Hanley."

"The seventh year? Eww…he's a slimy git, and he's way too old for her, didn't he get held back a year?"

Charlie shrugged: "Slimy git? Weren't you the one gushing about how _hot _he was the other day at lunch?"

It was Tonks's turn to blush: "I've got no idea what you're talking about, and if you tell anyone, I'll jinx your elbows together," she said quickly from between her clenched teeth. Her hair flared from bubblegum pink to a scary green and back again.

"So how was it," she asked a few moments later.

"It was nice, I guess," Charlie said. "But it was totally ruined when she jumped a mile in the air and told me off."

"Ah, my first kiss was the same way," Tonks said slumping into the depths of her chair and putting a goofy grin on her face.

"What are you talking about, Tonks?" Charlie asked, unbelievingly. "Who'd you kiss?"

"Oh no one," she said seriously. "I've just always imagined telling you that phrase to see the look on your face when I beat you to your first kiss."

Charlie shook his head and laughed unconvincingly: "Well you still have a chance of 'beating me'. I'd hardly count that as my first kiss."

By now the common room was mostly empty except for a few stray Gryffindors who fell asleep with their Potions essay in their laps.

"I can do you one better," Tonks said scooting to the edge of her chair.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

"I mean, we can tie," she said and she kissed him softly as the last embers of the Gryffindor fireplace burned steadily in the fireplace.

* * *

><p>"Aw shucks," George said smacking his lips, "That was adorable."<p>

"How come you never told me about this?" Bill asked in fake anger.

"Because after we kissed she threatened to put Blast-Ended Skrewts in my pillow if I told anyone," Charlie laughed.

"What happened to Melissa?" asked Ginny.

"She went to study dragons in Romania. Why do you think Char—" Ron began, but he was cut off quickly by Charlie.

"That's not even a little bit true!" he exclaimed, angrily taking another swig of his drink. "At least I was still young and had my boyish charm!"

"You never had charm, Charlie," Ron teased.

"Who was your first kiss again, Won-Won? Wasn't it Lav-Lav? When you were nineteen."

"Sixteen actually," Ron said in embarrassment, "And for your information, she was not my first kiss."

"Who was then Won-Won?" Hermione asked in complete seriousness.

* * *

><p>AN: Another new story? Yes. This one isn't as complex as my other stories. It's light on the conflicts and heavy on the fluff. But hey, they deserve a break every once and a while after all the Death Eaters and such. I hope you enjoy, but I'm not going to be extremely conscious about updating this story quickly—luckily each chapter is its own little story it won't bee too hard to follow, and it may be a while before I get another chapter up. Please leave a review; I really do appreciate them.

*Niles Hanley is a real character in the books; he just wasn't in the same grade as Tonks and Charlie. He was a first year in 1996.

* * *

><p>Oh no! Tonks was actually in Hufflepuff! I can't believe I didn't remember that until now... Oh well, I guess she spends at least some of her time in the Gryffindor Common room since she is good friends with Charlie. That was a mistake on my part. I'm sorry. I don't think many people actually noticed until I pointed it out...<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Samantha<strong>


	2. Ron Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

Ron was sitting under a tree next to Seamus and Dean. He was admiring a leaf that was about to be blown off of a twig by the steady breeze that traipsed along the grounds of Hogwarts. He tried desperately to keep his eyes open, but last night he had been awake all night, hanging out with his brother Charlie who was on the team of wizards bringing dragons to Hogwarts for the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

"…No! Quidditch is played fifty feet in the air on broomsticks. You can't beat that!" Seamus argued.

"Football is much safer, and it involves more activity than Quidditch. Football is way better!" Dean retorted.

Ron was friendly with Dean and Seamus, but they argued about Quidditch and Football way too much for Ron's liking. He didn't even know what Football was, only that it was a Muggle sport, and Dean supported the team of West Ham United: he had posters plastered all over the boys' dormitory of the Muggles in awkward poses that never moved. Today their repetitive fight was getting on his nerves.

He wished that Hermione would spend more time with him than with Harry, but she had decided to believe Harry's stupid lie about not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. Harry outdid Ron in everything: schoolwork, Quidditch, and now this. When Harry was chosen out of the Goblet of Fire to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Ron refused to believe Harry didn't put his name into the Goblet, and because of this, the two former-best-friends had not been speaking to each other for weeks.

"Ron? Ron!" Dean said. Dean and Seamus were now standing, and they had already gathered their books and bags up in their arms. Ron snapped out of his thoughts.

"Sorry?"

"We're going to the Great Hall for lunch. Do you want to join us?" Seamus said.

"Uh, sure," Ron said. He shoved his Transfiguration essay and his quill into his book pack and stood up. He brushed the loose grass off of his pants.

When they got to the Great Hall, Ron was displeased to find Harry and Hermione already sitting at the end Gryffindor house table. Harry wasn't looking, but Hermione waved at him and even scooted over on the bench to make room for him. His heart skipped a beat or two, wanting desperately for things to go back to normal, but he shook this thought from his head and followed Seamus and Dean farther down the table to where Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were sitting.

Lee was in the middle of an animated story. Ron slid onto the bench and listened.

"After I sent the letter to my aunt Tabitha, I turned onto that little spiral staircase that leads to the Owlery, and guess who I ran into! Katie Bell. She said it was nice to see me there so early in the morning. I walked back to the Owlery with her and waited while she sent a letter to her mum. Then it just sort of happened!" Lee said excitedly.

"Nice!" Fred said giving Lee a high-five. George clapped Lee on the back appreciatively.

"Hear that little bro'?" George said winking at Ron.

"Yeah, sorry, what happened?" Ron asked.

"He kissed her you fool!" Fred said as if it was blatantly obvious—which, now that Ron thought about it, it was.

"Oh, right."

"Have you ever kissed a girl, Ickle Ronnie?" Fred asked maliciously.

"No, have you?" asked Ron. He prayed that at least one of the twins hadn't.

"First year!" they said proudly in unison. Ron groaned inwardly.

"What are you waiting for, Ron?" George asked. "That special someone? Because I'm sorry to tell you that Hermione sided with Harry in that argument you two had."

"I don't like Hermione!" Ron retorted angrily.

"Prove it," Fred said with a smirk on his face. "Kiss a girl. Right now."

"Might I recommend that fifth year, Cho Chang?" Lee asked.

There was no way that Lee would know about Harry's crush on Cho, but for some reason, the idea of Ron getting to Cho before Harry was appealing. He knew he would probably regret this later.

"Fine, I'll do it," Ron said. "But you owe me two Galleons each for this!"

"Isn't it enough reward when you and Cho get married and have five kids, each with three-letter names to match yours?" George asked seriously.

"Two. Galleons. Each." Ron annunciated each word.

"Fine," Fred, George, and Lee dove into their bags and each lay out their Galleons on the table. Ron reached for the money but his hand was slapped away.

"Not until you kiss her. Pucker up!"

Ron heaved a sigh and walked lethargically over to the Ravenclaw table—or what would be lethargy if his heart weren't threatening to explode from his chest. Cho, as usual, was amongst her giggly group of girlfriends.

"Cho, can I talk to you?" Ron asked tapping her on the shoulder.

"Yeah, um excuse me guys, one second."

She excused herself from the table and followed him to the side of the Great Hall. Ron looked over his shoulder and saw to his disappointment that Harry and Hermione had already left. He had hoped to make Harry jealous by kissing Cho.

"Is this about…" Cho started, but her voice drifted off when she saw how red Ron's face was. Ron glanced back toward Fred, George, and Lee who were looking back at him. Cho glanced over too. The three boys looked away immediately, so Cho didn't notice their staring.

"You look quite nervous, Ron. Is everything alright?" Cho asked.

"I was wondering about uh, er…Quidditch. How is being Ravenclaw Seeker going?" out of the corner of his eye, he noticed all of Cho's friends staring at her.

"There is no Quidditch this year, Ron," she said confusedly. "Are you sure that's what you wanted?"

"Oh right." Ron took several short breaths, but he couldn't hide the shade of Gryffindor-red his face seemed to be turning. He just had to do it. Cho was quite a bit taller than him actually, and he was tall for his age.

Before Ron could talk himself out of it, he stood on tiptoe and kissed Cho on the lips. He wondered how long his lips were supposed to stay there to count as a genuine 'first kiss'. He was saved the trouble when Cho shoved his chest, sending him backward to the floor and nearly knocking the wind out of him.

"What was that?" she asked quietly but angrily, so she wouldn't draw attention to herself. She seemed quite embarrassed as well. "You can't just do that to me! Without warning!"

"I'm sorry!" Ron cried miserably. "I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"It's alright," she said kindly, offering him a hand. Her face was bright red. "Next time, make sure the girl likes you before you start snogging her in public."

Cho flounced off to her friends who started into more fits of giggles, probably over him. Ron was on the verge of turning purple when he finally rejoined his brothers at the Gryffindor table.

"Pay up!" Ron said furiously. The boys all shoved their Galleons toward Ron.

"Rejected!" Fred said. "It happens to the best of us mate."

"Don't worry, only about a hundred people saw you two," George smirked.

"You son-of-a—"

"Watch your language, Weasley!" barked Professor McGonagall, who was standing right behind them.

* * *

><p>"Ah yes, I remember now!" George laughed.<p>

Alicia smacked him playfully on the chest: "Don't be mean to Ickle Ronnie!"

Harry pointedly looked at Ron, taking a sip of his drink: "I'm going to kill you!" His speech slurred a bit. "How many of my other girlfriends have you kissed?"

"What other girlfriends! You've only had two!" Ron yelled loudly. "If you're suggesting I'd snog my own sister, then you're sadly—"

"What about the part where you said you didn't even like Hermione?" Hermione said. Ron muttered something about how he loved her now, so that didn't matter.

"Honestly, I don't understand why Harry is so fussed about Ron kissing _Cho Chang_. From what I hear he's dating someone else now. Maybe I'm just crazy," Ginny stated loudly to no one in particular.

"Oh, stop it, Gin," Harry pleaded apologetically. "You know I love you." He tried to kiss her, but she turned in the opposite direction.

"Come on, Ginny!" Charlie laughed. "I know for a fact Harry wasn't your first kiss. Tell us."

"Yeah, when did you have your first kiss?" Ron asked. "When you were eight?"

"Ron, just because I didn't wait until fourth year to pluck up the nerve to kiss someone doesn't make me a hussy—"

"We want the whole story, Ginny!" Alicia urged Ginny. Ginny downed another sip of the spicy red liquid before she began.

* * *

><p>AN: Hey there! I hope you liked this chapter. Please leave a review; I appreciate all of them good, bad or in-between. Thanks for reading. I'll see you next time!

* * *

><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	3. Ginny Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

Ginny stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her earthy green dress robes flowed around her body making her feel like a princess. The Yule Ball was going to start in an hour or two, and Neville Longbottom was going to be meeting her in the Gryffindor common room in a matter of minutes.

If she was being truthful, Neville Longbottom wasn't her first choice of date to the Yule Ball. But only fourth years and older were aloud to go. Ginny was only a third year, and Neville was the first person that had asked her. She had really wanted to go, so she agreed to be Neville's date. It was okay though, Neville was a good friend of hers. It would still be fun.

If she was being entirely honest with herself, she wished Harry Potter had asked her out. She had fancied the boy with the lightening-bolt scar ever since she had seen him on platform nine and three quarters four years ago. But Harry was going with Parvati Patil, an extremely pretty girl in fourth year.

Ginny applied the final touches to her hair and makeup, and yelled at Hermione to hurry up. Hermione was going to the ball with the famous Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. Apparently, he had taken a fancy to her one day in the library, but upon first glance at the burly teenage boy, Ginny would not of guessed he even knew how to read.

Finally, after what seemed like hours in the bathroom, Hermione returned to the girls' dormitory. Ginny held back her complaint that Hermione had taken too long in the bathroom when she saw the girl. Hermione looked absolutely radiant, and her hair had been tamed to a fraction of its normal bushiness. Ginny felt utterly underdressed and plain compared to the girl. Hermione's dazzling periwinkle robes floated around her like a cloud, and her face glowed with happiness.

"Ready?" she asked nervously.

"Yeah," Ginny said accompanying Hermione to the common room. At the bottom of the stairs, in the common room, many of the Yule Ball-goers stood, mingling with one another and sizing up everyone else's dates. Ginny knew Hermione and Krum would trump all of their dates; it would be talked about for weeks, months even. Ginny searched for Neville amongst the sea of brightly colored robes. She finally found him meandering about in the corner, looking incredibly shy.

"Hey," Ginny said, rushing up to him. Neville turned and turned bright red when he saw Ginny. He was dressed in handsome dark grey robes.

"You look, wonderful," he said smiling. Ginny smiled back politely.

"Shall we head down then?"

Neville held out his arm chivalrously, and Ginny accepted it. The two climbed out of the portrait hole just as Padma Patil was climbing in. She was supposedly going to the ball with Ron, but Ginny didn't think she'd last the night with her brother, the poor girl. They walked all the way down to the Great Hall, arriving about a half hour early. Only a few people were standing about in the corridor outside the hall, most of them teachers and older students.

"So," Neville said. "You look incredible."

"Thanks," Ginny felt awful that she couldn't think of a better reply. She gazed around the room, and then giggled. "Look!"

She pointed subtly toward a couple in the corner of the corridor. Neville laughed too. A very regal Madame Maxime was standing, a head taller than her date, Hagrid.

"Hmmm…" Neville glanced around the room and pointed to Mad Eye Moody and Professor Sinistra who were standing within a foot of each other, looking very awkward. Ginny laughed again. Before she had time to look around the room for another silly couple, though, the doors of the Great Hall opened.

Ginny gazed in awe at the transformed hall. It was decorated in silvery ice sculptures and whimsical snowflakes covered every inch of the space. Her favorite band, The Weird Sisters, was standing on an ice-covered stage, preparing to play. She gazed in awe when she saw the Weird Sisters' guitarist, Kirley Duke look at her and wink.

"Join me?" Neville asked holding out his hand, and leading her to a table where Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and their frilly dates from Ravenclaw sat.

"Ginny! Glad you could join us!" Seamus said.

"More glad to see Neville could actually find a girl," Dean laughed. Ginny tried hard to conceal her own laughter, which, thankfully, went unnoticed by Neville who was talking to Dean's date about Herbology.

As soon as Ginny sat down, the first song began to play. Ginny whipped her head around to watch the first dance between the Triwazard champions and their dates. Cedric Diggory led a dazzling Cho Chang out on the floor first. Fleur Delacour glided out with Roger Davies on her arm. Viktor Krum took Hermione Granger onto the dance floor with a collective intake of breath from the onlookers who knew her. Finally, Harry stumbled out of the crowd. A very annoyed-looking Parvati Patil was dragging him behind her. Ginny concealed her laugh behind her hand, and she noticed Dean, Seamus, and Neville doing the same. The dance began and the couples began to twirl around the floor—Harry and Parvati sort of stumbled gracefully around in a circle to put it kindly.

"Join me?" Neville asked, when the second song started. It was more upbeat, and Ginny knew all the words: the Weird Sisters was her favorite band.

"'Course I will, Neville," she said getting up. She followed him out to the middle of the floor.

The rest of the night was quite uneventful. The food was excellent, the dancing was fun, and at least a dozen boys had asked her to dance. By the end of the night, many of the couples had gone home. That left the teachers, about a hundred dedicated partygoers, and Ginny and Neville. She unwound herself from a Beauxbatons student, muttered her thanks, and rushed to the other side of the hall where Neville was chatting idly with Hannah Abbott.

"Alright," Myron Wagtail, the lead singer said. His voice was magically projected across the hall. "Time for two last dances. Grab yourself a boy, girl, or cat—yes, Argus, cats are acceptable dance partners—and come out here on the dance floor."

"Neville?" Ginny asked. She nodded contritely at Hannah who smiled and waved her on.

Neville led her to the center of the room as a slow song began to play. Neville and Ginny spun slowly on the spot. Ginny rested her head on his shoulder in exhaustion. He really was a good dancer. If she weren't so tired she would enjoy it more. Ginny closed her eyes, and almost drifted to sleep. She smelled the subtle scent of cologne on Neville and smiled. It had been an enchanting evening.

Ginny felt Neville's hand leave hers and reach up to her chin. He pulled her head upward gently and kissed her. The kiss was over as soon as it began.

Ginny started to speak, but Neville cut her off: "It's okay, Ginny. I know you don't really like me all that much. I saw the way you danced with everyone else, and I just wanted a fair chance."

Ginny grinned: "It's okay, Neville. I do like you, just not that way. We're friends. I'm not going to hold it against you or anything."

"Could you not tell anyone that…that that was my first kiss?" Neville mumbled.

"Your secret's safe with me," Ginny said. "That was my first kiss too," she winked and Neville seemed relieved.

The music stopped, and the Weird Sisters prepared for their last song.

"Last song," Neville said. "Join me?"

"Nah," Ginny said, beginning to walk off the dance floor. "I'm exhausted. Why don't you ask Hannah? Looks like her date left her."

She gestured to where Hannah Abbott was standing, by herself.

A few moments later, Ginny watched happily, as Neville and Hannah scampered proudly across the dance floor. Ginny didn't realize it, bu it would be another seven years before Neville would work up the courage to ask her to dance again.

* * *

><p>"And now zey are married!" Fleur said lovingly. "Zat ees adorable!"<p>

"You're responsible for their marriage, Ginny!" Alicia beamed.

"Nah," Ginny shook her head. "I think they had something to do with it."

"Great," Ron moaned childishly. "Now we have to add Neville to the list of boys Ginny has dated."

"We didn't date, Ron!" Ginny cried angrily. "And that list is not that long!"

Ron harrumphed and slumped back into his chair.

"Don't get your panties in a knot, Ron," George said in mock-sympathy. "You're only upset that Padma Patil didn't like you at all."

Ron looked ready to murder George.

"Why don't you go bother Hermione about Viktor Krum?" Ginny teased.

Hermione turned bright red.

"Need to say something?" George asked, and everyone's attention was directed at her.

"I never actually kissed Krum!" Hermione blurted out. She clapped her hands over her mouth.

"But you said—"

"Only because you were talking about kissing Neville, and I didn't want to be left out," Hermione cut Ginny off.

"You told Neville you would never tell his secret!" Ron exclaimed.

"Yeah well…Hermione, tell us about your first kiss, please," Ginny pleaded, changing the subject.

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><p>AN: Please leave a review. I really do appreciate them, and I'm no doctor, but I don't think it will kill you... Thanks for reading! If you've made it this far, I'm assuming you like the story, so thanks for liking it too. Bye!

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><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	4. Hermione Granger

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

Hermione Granger spent most of her days studying. She was taking fewer classes than she had taken in her third and fourth year, but it still felt like every second of her free time was spent trying to finish her assignments. Ordinary Wizarding Level exams were looming in the distant future, but teachers were cramming twice the normal amount of work into every class. Sometimes she wished for her time turner back just so she could catch a nap.

Today, she was in the library again, putting the finishing touches on a Herbology essay for Sprout. Ron and Harry were doing detentions with Snape…again. It seemed like they spent more time in detentions these days than out, and Hermione knew their grades were suffering because of it. She had even agreed to write their Potions essays because she knew Snape's detention was unfair. Ron and Harry's potion hadn't been that bad…it had just chosen to explode at the wrong moment.

Now the sun was setting, and the lamps in the library cast a flickering light over her books and parchment. She stood up for a moment to stretch out her wrist and relax her brain. That was when Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil popped out at her from behind a bookcase. They slammed about four textbooks each on the table across from her and slid into adjacent chairs.

"May we join you?" they asked in unison, as if they had prepared the speech.

Hermione glanced up at them suspiciously and slowly lowered herself back down into her chair. Lavender and Parvati were friends of hers, and she had nearly all of her classes with them, but they were far too chatty, and spending time with them rarely led to any good.

"Sure," she said finally.

At first it seemed as though the girls genuinely wanted to study with her. For the first ten minutes, nothing was exchanged between them except the scratching of quills and the occasional, "Does Niffler have one 'f' or two?"

Then, Lavender Brown decided to break up the study session: "Parvati, how did your date with Ernie go?"

Hermione stopped writing. Ernie MacMillan was a Hufflepuff in their year. She hadn't even known the two were dating.

"Oh! It was excellent!" Parvati beamed. "We went on a picnic down by the Black Lake. We had finger sandwiches and Butterbeer and tiny frosted cupcakes that his mum sent him." Parvati was gushing with details of the date.

"So did you kiss?" Lavender coaxed gently.

"Yes, of course," Parvati said. "Didn't I tell you? We kissed on our last date too."

"Mmmm…" Lavender hummed. "I remember my first kiss. It wasn't too long ago."

"When? With who?" Parvati asked.

"Don't you remember?" Lavender asked, looking a little hurt. "It was third year, Terry Boot."

"Oh yeah!" Parvati said when she suddenly remembered. "Gosh Lav, it's been so long. I thought your first kiss was Anthony Goldstein."

"You two really get around then?" Hermione asked. Collectively, it seemed like they had dated every fifth year in the school. Parvati shrugged.

"Wait…who was your first kiss, Hermione? Was it Krum?" Lavender asked with a glint of evil in her eye.

Hermione blushed a deep crimson: "I haven't actually kissed anyone."

Lavender looked like she had just hatched a plan. Parvati looked surprised.

"Hermione you need to lose that kissing virginity before you end up short and toad-like like Umbridge!" Lavender gasped. Parvati nodded with her mouth slightly open.

"Do you even know how to kiss?" Parvati asked.

"Yeah, I put my lips on their lips, right?" Hermione said, confused at the strange question.

"It'll work," Lavender said winking. Hermione was perplexed.

"I can't believe your two best friends are guys, and yet you still haven't kissed one."

"Yeah, I thought you and Ron—"

"Ron! Eww, no way!" Hermione cried.

* * *

><p>The next morning Hermione was roused from her bed at the crack of dawn. Two lip-glossed, eye-lined, zit-free, pimple-free, mascara-clump-free girls were staring down at her.<p>

"Come on!" Lavender cried. "You have to hurry! All the cute boys are early-risers!"

Hermione awoke groggily and was pulled from her bed. The two girls shoved her into the bathroom and began their 'work'. They yanked her hair into all sorts of shapes, jabbed her face with tiny sticks caked with pigments and liquids, forced her into a summery Muggle dress even though it was the middle of winter, and made her wear four-inch high heels that she could barely even move in.

"Done," Lavender said spinning her around to face the mirror. Hermione would never admit it, but Lavender and Parvati really knew what they were doing.

"Time for you to get kissed!" Parvati said. She yanked Hermione's arm and dragged her down the stairs and all the way to the Great Hall.

They sat down at the Gryffindor table. Hermione reached for a piece of toast, but it was batted out of her hand by Lavender.

"You have to keep your lip-gloss intact!" she hissed. Hermione hoped Harry, Ron, or any of her friends wouldn't walk in on what she was attempting.

"What about Colin?" Lavender asked. "He seems nice."

"No!" Hermione hissed through her teeth.

"Dennis?"

"He's a third year!"

"Zambini?"

"Eww! He's an arrogant slime ball!"

"Dean?"

"No."

"If you're going to be picky, the we're going to do it the hard way," Lavender said evilly. Sometimes Lavender was so sneaky that Hermione wondered why she didn't get sorted into Slytherin. It certainly would of made her life a lot easier at this moment.

"If you don't kiss the next boy that walks into this hall," Lavender said. Blackmail was never a nice option. "I'm going to tell Draco Malfoy that you have a big fat crush on him!"

"You little—" Hermione began. Even though she detested the boy, she would never hear the end of it from the Slytherins if someone told Draco that Hermione Granger had a crush on him. She looked up toward the entrance of the hall. At that moment Severus Snape decided to walk in.

"Okay, I don't care if you tell Malfoy anything. I am not going to kiss Professor Snape!" Hermione screeched.

"Next boy, next boy," Parvati said fairly.

"Fine," Hermione grumbled.

They waited for a few minutes before anyone walked through the door. It only made the pressure on Hermione worse. The next person to enter the Great Hall was Lee Jordan. Tall, fairly good-looking, and a friend of hers, Hermione supposed Lee wouldn't be too awful to her. She would only run into trouble convincing him to keep quiet around Fred and George.

Before Hermione could think about it, she ran across the back of the hall toward Lee. Actually, she hobbled because her heels were creating significantly painful blisters on her feet. Lee saw her coming and waved at her.

"Hey Hermi—" he called. But her glare cut him off immediately.

She gestured for him to come over to her. He obliged without a second thought.

"What's up?" he asked brightly.

"Sorry," she said. Lee looked confused.

She closed her eyes and kissed him. His face was warm and soft, and he placed his hands on her freezing bare shoulders. Hermione still had her eyes closed and she wondered how long it would last. Actually, if she didn't know any better—which she didn't, she'd say the seventh year was kissing her back.

Finally, they broke away.

"Hermione?" Lee asked looking onto her eyes with his dark brown ones. "You alright?"

"No," Hermione said. She moved her eyes in the direction of Parvati and Lavender who still had their eyes plastered to the scene. Lee glanced subtly over and nodded.

"I see," he said. "So that's what the makeup, the dress, the kiss…" his voice trailed off.

"I'm freezing, can barely walk, and my face is covered in this goop," said Hermione.

Lee laughed. Hermione admired that he didn't take anything too seriously.

"They got you; let's get them back," Lee said, smiling wickedly. He smiled at Parvati and Lavender and gave them a wink. Then he slid his jacket off and put it around Hermione's shoulders. Lavender and Parvati looked were in heaps of giggles, but they still looked impressed.

Lee kissed Hermione, scooped her up in his arms, and rushed her out of the hall so dramatically that it was almost comical. Once they were safely back to the Fat Lady, Lee set her down gingerly.

"M'lady," Lee said, and the two busted into fits of laughter.

"Do you think they bought it?" asked Hermione breathlessly.

"You didn't hear this from me, but those two aren't the brightest wands in the drawer. And at the very least, you didn't have to walk back on those heels."

"Thanks," she said grinning giddily. Lee followed her through the portrait hole.

That night in the Common Room, Lavender and Parvati joined Hermione, Harry, and Ron on the big squishy couch.

"Twelve seconds," whispered Lavender in Hermione's ear, sounding impressed. "And he's a seventh year."

* * *

><p>"Wonder why Lee never told me," asked George thoughtfully.<p>

"He was really embarrassed about it to be honest," Hermione laughed. "And don't tell him I told you. He'll kill us both."

George shrugged: "I cannot make any promises."

"That was adorable!" Alicia gushed. "Never knew Lee was so thoughtful."

"Don't go leaving me for him now!" George bursted.

"It really was adorable Hermione," Ginny said smiling. "But imagine me thinking your first kiss was Viktor Krum! And I can spot a lie from a mile away!"

"Alicia, who was your first kiss?" Hermione asked kindly.

Alicia bolted down the rest of her Firewhiskey. "I am not telling_ that _story," she said.

"You know that only made it juicier," Ginny pointed out. "Now you have to tell us."

"No."

"I'll give you a kiss," George said.

"No."

"I'll give you a kiss," Ginny said winking—she was pretty heavily intoxicated from her drink.

"No."

George cast a tickling charm on her. Alicia always hated to be tickled. As soon as the spell was cast, she started writhing with laughter. Her screams of "Stop, stop, STOP!" were unnoticed by George.

It wasn't until Alicia yelled, "Okay fine! I'll do it," that George finally removed the charm.

Alicia caught her breath and gave George a signature death glare before starting her story.

* * *

><p>AN: Hey there. New chapter. This one was probably my favorite to write so far. Actually it was the first one I thought of when I thought up the idea for the story. Also do you think Hermione/Lee is a good pairing? Of all the AU pairings, this is one I could live with. I think they're adorable together, much better than Draco/Hermione at least. Please leave a review; I love getting them.

* * *

><p>I also wanted to take a minute to thank the anonymous reviewer "Wish I was a witch." your review was so sweet and adorable, and I loved it. Its probably the nicest review I've ever gotten on a story, and I want to say thank you. You really made my day.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	5. Alicia Spinnet

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

Alicia Spinnet accelerated on her broomstick and chucked the leather Quaffle back into its trunk. It landed in place with surprising accuracy. She swooped to the ground gracefully and jumped off her broomstick at a run.

"Nice one," Oliver Wood called from the goalposts, high above her. "Alright guys, I guess that's it. Remember we're using Play 15 in the upcoming match against Hufflepuff, so don't forget it."

Oliver continued talking about different plays and things and Alicia zoned out. Fred and George drifted lazily to the ground, as if Oliver's ramblings were putting them to sleep. Harry was flying in circles around the opposite goalposts. Angelina and Katie, Alicia's two best friends, flew up behind her and landed on the ground next to her.

"Are you going to ask him out anytime soon?" Angelina asked yawning. "Or do I have to do it for you?"

"Oh come on guys," Alicia said staring at Oliver Wood. "He's way to obsessed with Quidditch to think about dating a girl."

"Not from what I hear," Katie said smiling. "Fred heard from Lee who heard from Daniel who heard from Silas that Oliver Wood said he fancied you when they were in the library last night."

"Nah, he was just saying that," Alicia said. Inside, she felt a wave of affection for the Gryffindor team Captain. "We're just friends."

"Best friends," Katie said removing her leather gloves. "Best friends who spend all their free time together."

"And you always look so happy when you're with him. You two would make a cute couple—oh don't deny it!" Angelina winked and shoved Alicia playfully.

"But you can say that, you're the prettiest girl in Gryffindor," Alicia pointed out. Oliver was still talking as if everyone was listening to him. "You can date virtually whoever you want. I can't do that."

Angelina pulled a tube of lip-gloss out from her robes and tapped it gently on her lips.

"Whatever you say," she said smacking her lips. "You and Oliver would have such great chemistry though. You're the only person that can get him to talk about something that's not Quidditch."

"What are you guys talking about?" Oliver said touching down beside the three girls. Alicia hadn't even noticed that he had stopped talking.

"You," Katie said. Alicia shot her the look of death. She continued, "We were talking about how long and boring your lectures are."

"What no way!" Oliver said, looking a bit peeved. "I thought you liked Quidditch! Angelina likes my lectures, right?"

"Correctamundo!" Angelina cried with mock-enthusiasm.

Oliver sighed, "You two are the worst…Anyways Leesh, I was thinking, after practice you might want to sneak down to the kitchens and get some brownies?" Brownies were Oliver Wood's favorite Muggle dessert.

Alicia felt the blood rush to her face. Angelina gave her a smirk.

"Sure!" Alicia said eagerly. Was it true? Did Oliver Wood really fancy her?

Alicia was quick to change out of her Quiditch robes and into regular clothes. She was excited to see Oliver and to find out if he really liked her. Angelina was quick to jump over to Alicia and start pinching her cheeks. Alicia batted her hand away forcefully.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" she screeched.

"Flushed cheeks against your dark hair will make you look hot," Angelina said.

"Really?" asked Alicia. Angelina continued pinching, while Alicia reached for hairbrush. "Don't even think about it," Angelina said. "Your windswept hair looks perfect right now."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Alicia asked her friend.

"Don't you remember, Silly? My sister writes the dating column for _Witch Weekly. _I know a bit about the subject." Alicia had completely forgotten that Angelina's older sister did in fact write dating columns for the gossip magazine, and apparently, the girl was quite the expert on relationships.

Angelina and Katie walked with her to the kitchens. Alicia felt her tummy curl up in her stomach. Finally, they reached the portrait of a massive bowl of fruits just below the Great Hall. The whereabouts of the kitchens were no secret to any self-respecting Gryffindor, so Alicia knew to tickle the chin of the pear in the bottom left corner to enter.

"Good luck," Katie said, ducking out of sight as soon as the portrait swung open. Angelina saluted her bravely. Alicia saluted back giggling slightly as stepped into the kitchens.

The kitchens were immaculately clean and full of house elves bustling around trying to keep the castle in perfect condition.

"Hey," Oliver said, waving with a brownie in his hand. In the other, a silver tray of powdered sugar-sprinkled brownies sat, making Alicia's mouth water. She noticed that Oliver had taken the liberty of polishing off two or three brownies already.

"Hey," Alicia smiled. She started to set her bag down by the door when Oliver grabbed her elbow and pulled her back up.

"I was thinking we could eat these somewhere else," he said, mischievously.

Before she knew it, Alicia was being led to an unknown location by Oliver Wood. She could hardly believe her luck: the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, who was one of her best friends and who she had fancied for the better part of this term, actually liked her back.

"We're here," Oliver said pushing open one last wooden door and leading her out. "Now I don't pretend to know all of the secrets of Hogwarts—for that one you'll have to speak with Fred and George, but I do know of this little place."

Katie stared in awe at where she was standing. A tiny balcony overlooked the grounds of Hogwarts. To her right was the Black Lake whose crystal dark waters stretched out forever. To her left was the Quidditch pitch, which held so many happy memories.

"Want one?" Oliver set the tray down on the banister. Alicia reached for one, but she was so nervous that she knocked the entire tray off the edge.

"Oh! _Wingardium Leviosa_!" she called, but her voice—and her spell—never reached the platter, which was squashed in the grass by now.

"Sorry," she muttered hanging her head a bit sadly.

"S'okay," he said kindly. Alicia looked back up at him. "I already had some."

Alicia sidled slowly towards Oliver. He was staring out into the purple dusk that engulfed the castle. He seemed sort of nervous, maybe a little bit sad. Perhaps he had _really _wanted the browies.

"You alright?" Alicia asked. Oliver removed his hands from the banister and turned to her.

"If I tell you something will you promise not to tell anyone else?" Oliver asked. "Angelina and Katie included."

Alicia sighed dramatically, "Fine."

"I've sort of been fancying this girl for a long time. I really like her, and I've been trying to work up the balls to ask her out," Oliver said. "I think I finally have."

Alicia's heart skipped a beat, "Really?" She could hardly believe Oliver Wood, the boy who only thought about Quidditch, was asking her out.

Oliver started to speak, but Alicia beat him to it. She grabbed his hand and lifted her head up to kiss him. It was the perfect moment—until Oliver Wood suddenly jerked his hand from her grasp and backed away.

"Woah there!" he exclaimed, holding his hands up. "What are you doing Alicia?"

Alicia felt like dying of embarrassment. Why did Oliver ask her to go on a date if he didn't even like her? Why didn't he like her? Who did he like then, if he didn't like her? Questions burned through her mind, but she mostly felt the sinking feeling that she had ruined something: a special friendship only the two of them shared.

She stared up at Oliver in humiliation. He wouldn't meet her eyes. Alicia felt so embarrassed that she ran from the tower, down two flights of stairs, and straight through the corridor past Peeves, who was pelting spitballs at a very tetchy Mrs. Norris.

She was finally stopped, just outside the library when she ran smack-dab into Cedric Diggory. The collision seemed to knock her tear ducts into motion, and before she knew it, she was crying. Cedric gathered the books, which had been knocked out of his hands and placed them in his book-pack.

"What's the matter?" he asked kindly, offering his hand to lift her up. Alicia stood up and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"Nothing. It's nothing," she said.

Cedric raised his eyebrows, "So you're one of those girls who cry over nothing?"

"No." The corners of Alicia's mouth were begging her to smile. Cedric was quiet. "It's Oliver Wood," she finally admitted. She wasn't a great friend of Diggory's, but at least she knew he wouldn't tell anyone her secrets. "I thought he fancied me. I mean we're good friends, we talk about things other than Quidditch, and…and I thought we had something. Now I've ruined it all. I tried to kiss him."

Cedric laughed but not because it was funny; in fact, he seemed a little bit bitter.

"What?" Alicia asked.

Cedric waited a while before speaking, "Turns out, we're in the same boat. I got rejected tonight too. By Mary Vincent."

"Way out of your league, mate," Alicia said, brightening up a bit. "So w—"

Alicia's words were cut off when Cedric suddenly stooped down and kissed her. The beginnings of a beard scratched at her chin, tickling her. She couldn't help but giggle a bit at the chimerical situation.

* * *

><p>"…And that relationship lasted a week," Alicia finished. "Being each others' rebound guys and all…it was bound to fail."<p>

"Blimey, I never knew you dated Diggory," Harry grinned. "I would have thought he was out of your league."

"Nah," Alicia laughed. "This was back in fourth year. Puberty did him wonders apparently."

"You and Oliver made up then?" Harry asked.

"Well yeah, we're still good friends now. The girl he fancied was a Hufflepuff, and once she rejected him…well we were on equal playing field again. You next Harry! Unless your first kiss really was Cho Chang…"

"Nah, that was Ron's," Harry grinned.

* * *

><p>AN: Will anyone's first kiss go as planned? Of course not. I hope Oliver Wood didn't come off as a bad guy here because I really like him, and I think he's nice. He just happened to like the wrong girl. Please leave a review, and tell me what you think!

* * *

><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	6. Harry Potter

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

Once again, it was a Hogsmeade weekend, and once again, Harry Potter was held hostage at Hogwarts by his lack of a permission form while his two best friends traipsed around the village eating Cauldron Cakes and drinking Butterbeer. Knowing that he wouldn't have been aloud to go to Hogsmeade this weekend anyway because he had to serve a detention with Professor Snape cheered him only briefly. Then again, Harry still had a detention with Snape, so he went back to stabbing at his toast with a fork with fury.

"We'll bring you back a Chocolate Frog, mate," said Ron encouragingly. "And an Acid Pop, a pack of Drooble's, a sugar quill, and some—"

"You aren't really making me feel any better," Harry said moodily turning away from Ron.

"Sorry, mate," Ron said.

"Hogsmeade! Anyone eligible to visit Hogsmeade this weekend please gather over here!" the voice of Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, called down the table.

There was a mad rush of people toward the door. It was mid-October—the ideal time to visit Hogsmeade because the weather was still nice and the homework hadn't reached a breakneck speed yet.

"Well, see you, Harry," Hermione said, gazing at him empathetically as she started to get up from the bench.

"Hurry up, Hermione!" Ron yelled merrily, pulling her by the arm. She giggled and was pulled into the mob of stampeding students.

Harry waited until at last all of the students had left, leaving only the younger students and a few seventh years who actually cared what their final grades were…ahem—Percy—ahem. He glanced down the table. Most of the students had already left to enjoy their free Saturday, but Parvati Patil was sitting a few yards away from him looking extremely gloomy.

"Don't you have a permission form? Can't you visit the village?" Harry asked. He scooted sideways along the bench toward Parvati.

Parvati nodded. "Yes, but I have a detention with Snape," she sighed.

"Me too," Harry said. "What'd you get busted for?"

"Lavender put rose petals in my potion to add…zest. But they completely ruined the potion and when Snape came by, it blew up in his face."

Harry laughed. Lavender Brown, Parvati's somewhat ditsy best friend and fellow Gryffindor, was always stirring up trouble.

"And you know how hard it is to reason with Snape. What did he get you on?"

"Nothing, really. I might have casually mentioned to Ron that I thought grease was for bacon, not hair. Snape overheard, and he wasn't too pleased."

Parvati cracked up. "Harry, you are so stupid sometimes! I mean that was brilliant and all, but you're completely mental to say it in front of Snape."

* * *

><p>"And you will scrub every single one of these pots until they're spotless. You hear?" Snape sneered, slithering around the classroom. "It's not my problem if any leftover potions spill on you and poison your famous blood, Potter. Get to work. I'll be back in an hour."<p>

Snape exited the potions classroom, whipping his robes flamboyantly out behind him. A stack of thirty or forty cauldrons lay whimsically in a corner of the room. They reeked of leftover potions. Harry walked over, picked one up gingerly with the tip of his wand, and set it carefully on a desk in disgust. He grabbed a damp towel and started scrubbing at the bluish solid that was caked on the inside. Parvati followed suit. They continued the arduous chore in silence for about fifteen minutes. Scrub, Scrape, Rub, Rake. The monotony was starting to bore Harry.

"Truth or Dare? Just stupid or the most brilliant game Muggles ever invented?" Harry found himself asking Parvati.

"What's that?"

Harry had forgotten that Parvati's parents were wizards, so she didn't even know what truth or dare was.

"It's a Muggle game," Harry restated. "I ask you truth or dare, and you choose one."

"Okay dare," Parvati said. Her arm was scrubbing rapidly at a particularly stubborn bit of mold on a cauldron.

"Now I get to dare you to do something," Harry said. "It's stupid, I know. If you don't want to—"

"No, no, I'll do it." She grinned.

Harry thought for a moment. "Okay, fine. I dare you to go into Snape's office and bring out the six-pack of Butterbeer he has hidden in there."

"How do you know—"

"Just do it," said Harry, winking. Parvati looked nervous, but she went out the door and down the hall to Snape's private storage closet.

Parvati returned a moment later with two ice-cold Butterbeers raised triumphantly in her hand. She twisted the lids off and chucked them in the waste bin. Then, she handed a bottle to Harry. He took a sip, letting the icy, warm, buttery sugar linger on his lips before continuing to scrub the pots.

"Truth or Dare?" Parvati asked.

"Truth," Harry said. He felt a bit cowardly. Everyone always chose truth.

"Okay, er…ever snogged a girl, Potter?" Parvati asked grinning.

Harry thought for a moment. He could lie and say he had, but he was certain Parvati would see right through it. She was good at seeing things. "No... Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Um…if you had to kiss someone in Slytherin, who would you kiss?" Harry asked thinking quickly on his feet.

Lavender raised the bottle to her lips and took a deep sip before she spoke. "Probably Zambini. But that's not me saying I fancy him or anything. I would rather kiss McGonagall than kiss him. Truth or Dare?"

"Er…dare, I suppose," Harry said. Since they had started, the pile of dirty cauldrons had decreased greatly, but they still had about twenty left to do and only half an hour left in which to do it. Parvati thought for a long time about her task before speaking.

Suddenly, and making Harry jump, the door to the potions classroom was shoved open forcefully.

"Potter, Patil!" A voice said from the doorway. Harry thought it sounded faintly familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "Snape sent me down here to tell you two to keep the noise level down or he'll tack an extra hour on your detentions. I also need to borrow a cauldron. He said you could help." Penelope Clearwater stepped inside the classroom.

Parvati's eyes glinted as she looked at Harry maliciously. "You chose dare, and I think we both know what I'm going to say."

"Over there," Harry gestured to the pile of clean cauldrons stacked lazily in a corner of the classroom. While Penelope went to examine them, Harry looked at Parvati and shook his head furiously. "Never!" he whispered, and then mouthed, "She's seventeen."

"Oh come on, Potter, live a little," Parvati spoke softly.

"This is unfair."

"I learned how to be unfair from Lavender. Besides, you started this game. You chose dare. You brought this upon yourself."

Harry's heart beat quickly in his chest.

Penelope Clearwater was Head Girl, four years older than him, and dating his best friend's brother. Harry was about to be busted. Penelope finally chose a small cauldron and stood up, swinging the handle of the cauldron onto her arm.

"Well, thanks," she said making to leave. Parvati shoved Harry forward toward her.

"Do you need something, Harry?" Penelope asked kindly because she had no idea what was coming next.

Before he had time to think, he sort of leaped at her and kissed her. It wasn't really a kiss, more of a bonking of heads in which their lips happened to meet during. She tensed up immediately and they broke apart as soon as their lips met. Harry stood back rubbing his forehead, which had hit Penelope pretty hard. Penelope rubbed her forehead too, and she looked like she might murder Harry if he did anything else.

"What the bloody hell?" she screamed, as she raced out of the potions classroom with her cauldron bouncing along behind her.

"Well that didn't go so well. Sorry, Harry," said Parvati, who returned to cauldron cleaning. "Forgive me if she murders you in your sleep."

"You owe me a favor at a later date," Harry grumbled furiously. He didn't know that that favor would be a date with Parvati Patil to the Yule Ball the next year.

* * *

><p>"Nice one, Potter," Ron said, slurring slightly. "Going for an older woman, like I did with Hermione."<p>

Hermione slapped him smartly on the shoulder. "We're hardly six months apart!"

"Bloody hell! That was _my _girlfriend!" Percy cried angrily. "You can't just go around kissing _my _girlfriend! Especially when _my _girlfriend is four years older than you!"

"Last time I checked," Audrey said loudly. "_I_ was _your_ girlfriend. And Harry definitely hasn't been kissing me because Ginny would murder him so…"

"Don't be so mental, Perce. Penelope was looking for an excuse to break up with you," George pointed out.

"Wait, didn't you two break up over Christmas holiday that year?" Ginny asked. "Maybe it was Harry's fault."

"Don't blame this on me!" Harry exclaimed. "We only kissed once, Perce! I swear! You two kissed more times than that. Why don't you tell me about it Percy? Tell us about your first kiss."

* * *

><p>AN: Truth or Dare? Original, I know. Unfortunately, I have trouble imagining Harry with anyone but Ginny so we had to go this route. Anyway, that's all I've got to say. Please leave a review if you'd like, or don't if you would not like.

* * *

><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	7. Percy Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

The silence in the library was often maddening. Each second that passed was met only with the scratching of quills so that the sounds of feather on parchment grated on the ear threatening to literally make it bleed.

And in the last twenty minutes, all Percy had written on his paper besides his name, date, and a title was, "There are three potions that are the most effective in healing minor abrasions:"

Across from him, Penelope Clearwater sat, a Ravenclaw and fellow prefect. She had already written four inches of the same assignment. Percy glanced across the table toward her admiring her hair, soft and brown, and her dark blue eyes. Percy wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but he had fancied the prefect for a very long time now.

Now he was sixteen, had never been kissed, and was probably going to die a sad and angry hermit. Fred and George had taken a notice to his lack of girlfriends—they had both kissed plenty of girls—and they were beginning to tease him about it. If only he could work up the nerve to ask Ms. Clearwater out. Unfortunately, the thought of doing just that made him nervous and sweaty. This whole dating thing seemed to come a lot easier to everyone else.

"Percy?" Penelope asked. "Keep your eyes up if you're going to look at me at all."

Percy felt his cheeks burn when he realized his gaze had fallen somewhere…below her neck. He muttered something inaudible and returned his quill hastily to its inkbottle. This proved to be a bad decision when he knocked over his bottle and spilled ink all over the table.

"Damn," he muttered, using a charm to sop up most of the ink.

"Are you okay, Percy?" asked Penelope, checking the stopper on her own inkbottle to make sure it was tight enough. "You seem a bit…flustered."

"Fine fine, I'm absolutely perfect!" Percy said with a little bit too much enthusiasm.

"Are you sure, Perce? Because you haven't even written a sentence yet, and you're usually faster than me."

Percy sighed. He knew Penelope could see through his lies like they were glass. The two had been friends since the beginning of the year when they both found out they were prefects. And in that time, they had spent a lot of time together—just as friends, lamentably.

"Okay fine, Fred-and-george-have-been-on-my-case-about-not-having-a-girlfriend-so-i-was-going-to-ask-if-you-would-pretend-to-be-my-girlfriend-so-that-they-stop-teasing-me-all-the-time," Percy blurted at top speed.

"I didn't even have a bloody chance of understanding what you just said," Penelope pointed out, tickling her quill across the bottom of her chin. "Again. And slower."

Percy said the sentence again but not without turning twenty shades of red bordering purple. "Fred and George have been teasing me because I've never actually…uh…er…snogged a girl," he confessed. He braced himself for Penelope to start laughing, but it never came. "And I was wondering…I was wondering…I was wondering if maybe-you-would-pretend-to-be-my-girlfriend-so-that-they-would-at-least-stop-badgering-me-about-it ."

"Enough with the verbal vomit," Penelope said sweetly. There was a long, drawn-out pause between them. "I suppose we're good enough friends that I could…maybe…pretend for you."

"Brilliant!" Percy said enthusiastically. "We can start tonight!"

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, darlin'!" Penelope joked.

The next day, a Saturday, Percy escorted Penelope to the Gryffindor common room. Just outside the door he laced the fingers of his right hand into her left hand.

"M'lady," Percy said holding open the portrait hole for her while the Fat Lady prattled, "Percy's finally got a girl!" in his ear. He turned red around the tips of his ears.

They stepped through the hole together hand in hand, and walked straight toward where Fred and George were sitting in a corner, playing Exploding Snap. A soft December snow shook down cheerily out the window in the background. Percy and Penelope hopped up on the window seat, right above where the twins were on the floor.

"Who is the girl, Perce?" Fred asked putting down a card.

"Penelope," Percy couldn't help but grin. He put his arm around her, and she nuzzled her head in his shoulder. She was very good at pretending to be his girlfriend.

George raised an eyebrow at the sight of them. "Oh. You've finally gotten one. Took you long enough. I'm assuming she's a prefect."

"Percy and Penelope. We should start calling you Percelope or Prefect Lovers. Two bloody P's in a pod," Fred said, making gagging sounds.

Percy grinned again.

"Okay Perce, you might have confunded this poor girl into thinking she likes you for now, but have you two actually done anything besides hold hands? Because I've _held hands _with Auntie Muriel for crying out loud, and I still do not like her in the slighte—" George's speech was interrupted when the deck of cards exploded in his face. Percy laughed cruelly.

"You've won for now Fred, but I'll get you my pretty and your little dog too!" George cried putting on a witchy voice. "I bet you haven't kissed her."

"Of course I have!" Percy protested pompously. "I think this is the part where we kiss," he breathed in Penelope's ear.

Penelope slid closer to him and craned her neck upward toward him. She tasted like honey and cinnamon. He parted his lips slightly and hoped on his life he was doing it right. More than convincing Fred and George, he wanted to please Penelope. His cheeks were doused in warmth when she placed her hand on his cheek and broke away, staring up at him with her bright doe-eyed expression. She smiled.

"Oh, I see how it is," George said gagging slightly. "You know, it's really not polite to do that kind of thing in the common room. There are children in here who prefer their innards on the inside. If you must—and believe me, I would advise against it—you should look into an empty classroom."

Percy shrugged. "Penelope?"

Penelope sighed, but it was a happy sigh. Percy couldn't help but be wistful at how good of an actress she was. "I suppose." She hopped off the window seat and dragged Percy by his hand, giggling. The noises of Fred and George gagging could still be heard across the common room.

Penelope didn't stop dragging him until she reached an empty classroom, miles from Gryffindor Tower.

"You're a brilliant actress!" Percy complemented as the two of them hopped up on the teacher's desk in the back of the classroom. They sat in silence for a few moments, staring at each other.

"Well…" she said. She traced the edges of Percy's prefect badge with her fingers and flattened out his robes. He felt an inferno burn at his insides. "That's the thing," she explained slowly. "I wasn't exactly…acting."

Percy stared off in disbelief at what he was hearing. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Penelope actually liked him back.

"I actually…I've fancied you for a while now," she admitted, blushing slightly.

"Me too," Percy said back. "Oh why didn't I say something before? Idiot."

"Oh you're not an idiot!" she giggled, and they were kissing again. Percy felt happy. He finally had a girlfriend, and she wasn't pretending to like him.

Their moment was interrupted when the door of the classroom opened. There was a crash of books toppling to the floor and a red-haired, freckle-faced first year gagged. "Merlin, Perce! Give a girl a warning before you start doing _that _in front of me! Poor Penelope!"

Ginny raced from the room quickly.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Maybe we should be more secretive," he shrugged.

"Your family is going to tease you no matter what, you know."

"I know. Some secrets are fun though."

* * *

><p>"Oh Perce, I remember that!" George said in mock enthusiasm. "Although, I had no idea that that was your <em>first <em>kiss. Sixteen, eh? Mine was when I was eleven, just saying..."

Percy shrugged. "One of Ginny's dolls when she isn't looking doesn't really qualify as a first kiss, Georgie."

"Rule of thumb, Perce: it's a rookie mistake to give your family something else to make fun of you over," Fleur joked. "And zey are never going to let you live zis down!"

"I remember that day," Ginny said with a disgusted look on her face. "You weren't exactly snogging her. More of a sucking the venom out of her face if she got a snake bite on the inside of her mouth sort of a thing. Everyone groaned, and George punched Percy in the shoulder. Percy looked angry against the flickering flames of the bonfire.

"I am not that bad! Am I?" he asked turning to Audrey.

"Eh. You have your ups and downs," she joked. Percy was probably bright red, but it was hard to see with only the firelight. "I'm kidding, Percy. You're wonderful." She kissed him, somewhat sloppily because of the intoxication from the Firewhiskey.

"Okay, Lovebirds," Harry said refilling the bottle of Firewhiskey with his wand. "Time for another story. I choose…" he searched around the circle for a quiet face. "I choose you, Flower of the Court." He gestured to the radiant and very pregnant Fleur Delacour, who had a huge belly and was not the least bit intoxicated.

"Oh, I suppose zat would be alright," she said, smiling mysteriously. "But I 'ave to go to ze bathroom first. Sometimes I just want to get zis baby out!"

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for sticking around for another chapter! I really enjoyed writing this one. It's nice to see Percy not working or doing homework. Please leave a review if you would like, or don't if you would not like. See ya next time! P.S. Those big words with a million hyphenss in them are supposed to be all on word, but they kept disappearing when I would save it, so just pretend the hyphens aren't there and it's a big blob of verbal vomit. Thanks!

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><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	8. Fleur Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

It was common knowledge that Nice, France was the veela capital of the world. Annually, during the first week of summer, there was a large festival held across the beaches of Nice. It was a wild magical party Fleur had only heard of from her parents and older cousins. Apparently, veelas partied like they were at a large family reunion, and the festivities were enchanting and magical. Something one would have to see to believe, her cousins told her.

Fleur always dreamt of the day when she would finally get to go and see first-hand what she had heard such wonderful tales of before. Since she was only a quarter veela, her parents thought it would be best if Fleur and her sister, Gabrielle, waited until they were teenagers to go to the festival. This year Fleur was thirteen, so this year she would get to join her parents and the rest of her family at the festival.

When the day finally arrived, Fleur took extra care to make sure she looked extra special for the festival. She combed her hair and braided it into a long plait that wrapped around the back of her head and fell against the small of her back. She chose a simple silver dress and even tested out her mother's makeup—failing miserably at the eyeliners, concealers, blushers, and lip liners, she opted for some plain pink lip-gloss.

"Gorgeous, darling!" her father said, greeting her at the foot of the stairs. Fleur blushed and did a quick spin.

"She's all grown up!" Fleur's mother cooed. "Our baby is all grown up!"

They travelled by side-along Apparation to the seaside, just as the sun sank low in the sky like a beaming orange orb. It cast its golden glow over everything, and Fleur stood for several minutes, trying to take it all in.

The festival was gorgeous. There were several tents set up in all sorts of soft, metallic colors: gold, silver, bronze, and pale pink. There was a huge bonfire in the center of the festival, blazing brightly. It was like walking into a medieval carnival, except much more colorful and veela-like. There was an endless amount of things to see and do from unicorn riding, to magical showcases, to eating contests, to drinking games, to sporting events.

And the people, Fleur knew there were going to be veelas at the festival, but she had never imagined them to be this beautiful. Before today, the only full veela she had met was her grandmother who, despite being drop-dead gorgeous, was getting on in years. Now she stared wistfully at the alluring creatures, whose skin appeared to literally glow golden in the light of the waning sun. Their hair was long and silver, and their faces shined with joy and enchantment.

"Fleur!" a boy yelled. It was her cousin, Antoine, who was fifteen and, like Fleur, one-quarter veela. "Come here! There are some friends I would like you to meet!"

Fleur smiled and rushed over to her cousin, who was surrounded by three veela girls and two veela boys, who seemed to be around Antoine's age, maybe a little older.

"Meet Toby, Felicia, Clemence, Yves, and Mariette," he said gesturing toward a different veela for every name he spoke.

"Nice to meet you!" Fleur said, curtsying and feeling as if she was in the presence of royalty.

"Ah, she is so adorable!" Clemence cried. "I just want to grab her cheeks and squeeze them!"

Fleur's smile faded slightly. She was a little offended by Clemence's condescending comment.

"Fleur will be staying with us for the night, won't you Fleur?" Antoine asked kindly. Fleur nodded. It was her first night at the festival of the veelas and she was happy to be spending it with her cousin and his veela friends.

"Here," Toby said handing her a glass of a clear liquid from a tray of a passing waiter. Fleur took it hesitantly.

"It's fine, Fleur," Antoine said. "You aren't going to get in trouble." He took his own glass, and passed the tray around for the others in the group.

"Oh gosh," either Felicia or Mariette said, Fleur couldn't remember who was who. "I really needed one of these if I was going to make it through the night!" she took a sip.

"Go on, it won't kill you," Yves said. "Just a little alcohol to lighten the mood."

Fleur took a sip of what she thought was a very clear wine. It turned out to be something she had never tasted before. She spit it immediately onto the sand. "What is this?"

"What a cute little girl, Antoine," Clemence said, again condescendingly. "Vodka!" she said sucking down some more of it and smacking her lips. Fleur, who had only ever had wine with her family, felt sickened.

"Antoine?" she asked. "Why did you give this to me? I'm leaving!"

"Please stay, Fleur," Antoine pleaded. "We won't make you drink any more; I swear!"

"Ah, how will she participate in the festival's game of spin the bottle if she isn't even a little bit drunk?" either Felicia or Mariette said.

"She'll manage," Antoine said defensively. "Have you ever even tried to play that game sober, Felicia?"

Felicia slurped the rest of her drink, "Nope! Here have some more, Fleur!"

Fleur ducked out of the way of Felicia's swinging arm just in time. She wondered how many drinks the group had consumed before her arrival.

"It would be a treat for her to kiss someone as pretty as us!" Yves exclaimed. "She's just a little girl, and she's not even a full veela!"

"Neither am I, Yves!" said Antoine, but the amount of anger in his voice was hindered greatly by the amount of alcohol streaming through his blood.

Fleur felt hurt even though she knew Antoine was trying to defend her, no matter how much he was failing at it. Before any of the veelas had time to insult her again, she ran from the scene as fast as she could.

"Fleur!" a man's voice yelled from behind her, but she kept running. She ran for a quarter of a mile to where the tents stopped and the sandy beach began to stretch on for miles. "Fleur?" a hand tapped on her shoulder, and she turned face to face with Toby from Antoine's group of friends.

"I'm not coming back!" cried Fleur defiantly, slumping to the ground at his feet. She buried her hands in the sand and felt the grains sift through her fingers as she pulled them out again.

"I know," Toby said sinking down to meet her. He placed his hand on hers and brushed the sand off of it. Fleur looked up at him. "Veelas are selfish, vain, tempered, and a lot of them are alcoholics. You should be glad you aren't a full veela. I should be happy that I'm not a pure veela either."

"You're not?" Fleur asked. If she had seen him on the street she wouldn't have believed him. Apart from his long, blond, never-been-cut hair, blue eyes, and golden skin, Toby was physically attractive, suave, and generally veela-like. Fleur scooped up a handful of sand in her hand and let it fall like a waterfall onto Toby's hand. She guessed he wasn't quite as vain, selfish, and tempered as the others.

"No," Toby said. "My mum is a veela, my dad's a muggle. So I got Mum's looks and dad's personality."

"Hmm," Fleur hummed, "Have you ever considered telling your friends?"

"That bunch of drunkards? No way," Toby said. "The only reason I hang out with them is because I'm friends with Antoine, but even he drinks at this festival."

"Bummer," Fleur said. They sat in silence for a while. Toby leaned back gracefully on the sand.

"You know what they said?" Toby finally asked. "About someone having to be drunk to be able to kiss you?"

Fleur nodded and stood up brushing the sand off of her dress. "What about it?"

"I think they were wrong," he said. He scrambled to a standing position. "Really wrong."

He leaned over and put his lips on Fleur's. It lasted five seconds at the most. Then Toby and Fleur walked back to the festival, hand in hand. Fleur didn't participate in the veela version of spin the bottle that night, not that it mattered much anyway.

* * *

><p>"Wow, you've actually been to the veela festival?" Hermione asked, impressed.<p>

"From ages thirteen to eighteen," Fleur said. "Then I met Bill."

"You've just made me sound like a wet blanket right there," Bill said.

"Oh no, darling!" she said kissing him on the lips. "As you can see I am once again the one who is not drinking! That makes _me_ the wet blanket."

Everyone cracked up a little. Fleur scrambled to get comfortable in her chair, but she was having trouble because of her enormous belly.

"Who have we got left?" Fleur asked maliciously. "Bill," she pushed Bill slightly. "Audrey, and George. Who wants to go next?"

No one volunteered.

"I think I'm going to choose…Bill," Fleur grinned.

"No way!" Bill retorted. "My first kiss was you honey!" He kissed Fleur again.

"What a load of bull!" she said. "Tell us! I told you mine!"

"Fine," Bill grumbled, refilling his glass of Firewhiskey. "But don't be disappointed because the story of my first kiss is hardly even a story at all."

"Denying it?" Harry asked. "Ooh, this must be good."

* * *

><p>AN: Happy Mother's Day! This chapter was a bit different from the others, but that made it fun, right? It was fun to write—most likely because I wrote it at some obscene hour of the night. When I said the veelas' skin glowed, I meant it in a veela way, not a vampire way, capisce? Keep in mind that they are speaking French throughout the chapter, but (1) even though I've been taking French classes for years, the most I can say is, "Je ne parle pas bien français," and (2) no one except for the people that actually speak French would be able to understand it. Also, I was looking on some websites, and there seems to be some confusion as to whether of not there are any male veelas. I think that the veelas in the book are all female because they are the magical version of cheerleaders. In other words, there aren't that many male cheerleaders, so at the Quidditch game where all the veelas were female, they were all being cheerleaders, if that made any sense. Any thoughts? I hope you liked it, and I hope you leave a review too. P.S. I think I might write a story about Fleur's first haircut. It would probably be very intense seeing as veelas can't ever cut their hair and all. I'll let you know if that ever gets posted. This is the longest author's note ever...

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><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	9. Bill Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

He sat tuning the radio in the Gryffindor common room, shaking his wavy red hair out of the way of his glasses so that it fell helplessly messily on top of his head. He adjusted the fang hanging down from the lobe of his newly pierced ear—a piercing his mother did not know about and certainly wouldn't approve of. Even though nothing he was wearing matched, or even had a theme in general, Bill Weasley was cool. Ever since he'd started school four years ago, he'd been one of Hogwarts's most popular students: clever, good-humored, elusive, handsome, friendly. And as things go, Bill's best friends, Luke and Shelly, were cool too—at least by his standards.

"I'm bored," he finally said, abandoning the radio and turning to his friends. "We need something fun to do."

"You could do your potions essay," Luke said, tapping the piece of parchment he was currently writing on: "The Four Main Uses of Boomslang Skin in Basic Potion Making."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Luke?" Bill said starting a mock-lecture. "You can't waste your days away doing homework. You have to spend your waking hours doing something exciting. Homework is for the wee hours of the morning when you're too tired to think straight anyway."

"Sometimes I wonder how you and Shelly get such good grades; you're both taking so many classes." Luke sighed, returning to his essay. Shelly and Bill hadn't yet told Luke that they both used time turners to get to all their classes on time. Bill sometimes used his to catch a few extra hours of sleep every night.

"Shelly, we need to think of something. Something that will make us more than just the Gryffindors who get good grades and drink Muggle beverages," Bill said. He picked up his plastic bottle of fruit punch and took a sip.

"I agree," she snagged the bottle from him and took her own sip. Shelly replaced the bottle of the table and curled her feet under her on the Gryffindor chair. "Something that will put us in the books of all-time greatest pranks ever attempted within these gates."

"It'll probably involve a teacher or two and most of the Slytherins," Bill said excitedly.

"And maybe a secret trip to Hogsmeade for supplies?" Shelly asked.

"No, no, opposite direction," Bill said. "You in?"

"I like the way you think Weasley," she said, giving Bill a high-five. "You in, Luke?"

Luke looked skeptical.

"Don't be a wet blanket, Luke. Come on it'll be fun," Bill said smiling encouragingly.

"Okay fine!" Luke said. "But if we get detentions for this—"

"It's probable."

Luke sighed. "If we get detentions for this, you're doing my potions essays for the next week and a half."

They spent the rest of the day working on a plan that was amazing, seamless, and likely one of the top ten pranks conducted by a Gryffindor…ever. When Bill finally turned into the warmth of his four-poster bed that night, he felt a magical glow inside of him. One that can only be felt when one knows something great is looming in the horizon.

That Saturday, Bill, Shelly, and a still-reluctant-rule-abiding Luke woke up early. Actually, their heads had hardly hit their pillows when it was time for phase two of their prank. They had spent the entirety of their Friday night completing phase one.

"You know what to do, Luke," Shelly said encouragingly. Luke looked like he was going to hurl, kill Bill, or fall asleep in the middle of the corridor outside of the Gryffindor common room.

"Luke!" Bill whispered sharply. "You're part of this is the most important part of the whole thing. We can't have you getting sick or falling asleep on the job. Get your head in the game, man!"

"What's this?" said the Fat Lady, who had awoken grumpily when the portrait had been opened seconds previously.

"None of your business!" Shelly hissed, a little bit too defensively.

"Students out of my house at four in the morning? Yes it is my business!" he Fat Lady screeched.

"Please be quiet!" Bill said softly. "We don't want—"

"SECRETS SECRETS ARE NO FUN UNLESS THEY'RE SHARED WITH EVERYONE!" the Fat Lady sang out.

"Fine. We are pulling a prank on someone. Now will you please shut up!" Bill cried as quietly as he could, hoping that McGonagall, whose room was just down the corridor, could not hear.

"Tell me all about it _if_ you return!" the Fat Lady trilled. Bill sighed; she always was an enormous gossip.

"It's time, Luke!" Bill said, as he pushed Luke down the hall, steering him to the open window. "You know what to do."

To this day, no one knew exactly how Luke Seychelle wound up dangling midway between the Gryffindor tower and the Owlery with no magical way to get him down—except for Bill and Shelly that is—but the disruption caused by his screams bought them enough time to perform part three of their master prank.

Shelly and Bill scampered through the halls of Hogwarts, making sure they weren't seen.

They finally arrived in a side-clutching manor at the large broomstick cupboard just off of the Great Hall. They breathed heavily for a few minutes before quickly getting to work.

"Flobberworms?"

"Check."

"Spiders?"

"Check."

"Skrewts?"

"Uh…oh there they are, check."

"Unicorn?"

"Check," Shelly said, petting the unicorn's long silver mane. It gave a soft whinny, and Bill felt momentarily bad for dragging it out of its home in the Forbidden Forest. He pushed that thought from his mind though and tried to think that he was lucky to have caught one at all—this unicorn in particular, walked with a limp; the others could outrun even the fastest of humans.

"Ready?" Shelly asked, she hoisted a wooden box of Spiders, and Bill grabbed the skrewts. "Where are we going first?"

"Slytherin washrooms," Bill said, leading the way.

They ran swiftly down the two flights of stairs to the dungeons where the Slytherin shower rooms were located.

"See you one the other side then," Bill said a bit nervously, saluting to Shelly.

"I hope so," she returned. "I never thought I'd be going inside the _Slytherin_ ladies' room."

"Yeah, they're so disgusting they won't even notice the spiders," Bill joked. He ducked into the boys' bathroom.

For the most part, the bathroom looked the same as the Gryffindor bathroom. The only difference was that the shower curtains were green instead of red and the mess usually left by Gryffindor boys was absent in the Slytherin bathroom.

"Okay, little buddies, you know what to do," he said. He put a skrewt in the sink, one near the showers, and one in each of the bathroom stalls. "Work your magic," he said to the meter-long creatures. Even before he left, he heard the sluggish crawl of the skrewts, coating the floor with their sticky slime that was like super glue to the flesh of humans.

"How'd it go?" Shelly asked, wiping her sweaty hair out of her face as she walked with Bill back to the broom closet.

"Perfectly," Bill returned, looking at Shelly. The morning sunlight that streaked through the halls reflected off of her eyes, and the light hit her face just right.

_Focus Bill, _he thought to himself, suddenly nervous.

"What do we have left?" Shelly asked. "Flobberworms in Snape's private stores, and the unicorn goes…"

"In his bed!" Bill finished for her, grinning hugely.

"Hopefully Luke is holding out," Shelly muttered. "Nervous prat."

Bill laughed amiably as he held open the door of the closet for Shelly. They gathered up the rest of the creatures and walked back down the steps. It was a little harder getting the injured unicorn down to the dungeons, but they finally managed.

"Sorry, mate," Bill said petting the unicorn at the bottom of the stairs. "But his room will probably be disgusting—and greasy. Snape has probably used less shampoo in his lifetime than you." The horse whinnied as if agreeing.

"Okay, Flobberworms first," Bill said, tapping the box he held in his arms. They raced down dimly lit the hall toward Snape's private stores of potions ingredients. The door was of course locked, but there had always been a dog flap on it that remained unlocked all the time. Bill was under the impression that the dog flap was put there specifically for students that wanted to get revenge on Snape.

Bill knew the flobberworms weren't much, but they were guaranteed to get into everything and make a complete mess of the place, which was all Bill really wanted. The real prank was the unicorn.

He dumped the box of flobberworms out onto the ground and rushed back out to the corridor, and together Shelly and Bill dragged the silver-gold unicorn to the end of the hall where a plaque that read "Potion Master's Dormitory" was plastered to the door.

Bill muttered, "_Alohomora_," and twisted the silver knob carefully. The door opened soundlessly, and they walked inside. The room was fairly average albeit a little dark and gloomy, and it had a picture of what Bill guessed was Snape as a kid hanging on the wall. In it were Snape, less greasy and altogether happier looking, and a girl, around the same age with red hair and wildly green eyes.

"Just stay here," he told the unicorn, as he dragged Snape's plain grey bedcover over to it. "Sorry buddy, Snape will be back in a few minutes, and then we're home free."

Bill heaved a sigh of relief: they had done it. From this point forward, if everything went as planned they would have triple-handedly pulled off one of the greatest pranks ever attempted at Hogwarts. And the floor of the Slytherin boys' bathroom would be sticky for weeks longer.

"What are you looking at?" Bill asked when he finally noticed Shelly smiling at him.

"Oh nothing," she said with a half-grin plastered to her face. Her short dark hair was sticking out all over the place, but she still looked pretty, even in the dim lighting of Snape's bedroom.

"Really, what?" Bill asked scooting slightly toward her.

"Okay, fine," she said quickly, as if she had already made a decision in her head.

Then they kissed. Their lips met for a few seconds, and then they broke away.

"We really shouldn't," Shelly whispered.

"But I really want to," Bill said kissing her again.

She smiled up at him, sweetly. "So do I."

Later, during a very tired breakfast at the Gryffindor table, the unmistakable scream of a Slytherin girl could be heard. Some of the teachers rushed to see what was the matter. Bill thought he saw McGonagall glance at the three of them, but she looked away and broke out into a rare but genuine smile. On the inside, Bill was throwing a miniature party of celebration, complete with confetti and streamers. Under the table, Shelly grabbed his hand and squeezed it once. Luke still looked ill.

* * *

><p>"Awesome!" Ron said. "Mum and Dad never found out then, eh?"<p>

Bill shook his head looking a bit smug. "Pretty darn good prank if I do say so myself."

"Shelly?" Hermione asked. "Is that Shelly Newmann? You two are still friends right?"

"Yes," Bill explained. "We went out for a whole week before we got bored of each other. Plus, Luke was getting annoyed by our snogging. But we were still friends."

"Hmm...who's next?" Harry asked holding his glass in his hands. "I'm ready for another story."

"I guess I'll go," Audrey spoke up grinning. "But it's not that great of a story; I'm a pretty boring person. After all, I did end up with Perce."

Percy fumed. He absolutely hated being the butt of any joke.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for sticking around until this point. It's kind of fun to know that people actually enjoy reading my stories. Does anyone else have trouble spelling adverbs? It has become a major problem. I can spell most anything fastidious, loquacious, impeccable, but throw an adverb at me, and I can't spell it to save my life. Anyway, you're always welcome to leave a review, so if you'd like…you know what to do. See you next time! P.S. Only a few chapters left until we're done…aww. Don't worry; I've still got a few surprises left in store.

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><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	10. Audrey Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

Down to the summertime freckles sprinkled across their faces, Audrey and Annette looked identical. Same strawberry-colored hair, same tan skin, same bold blue eyes. They even had the same tiny gap in between their teeth—this was fixed later thanks to magical orthodontia. It was no surprise to anyone that they were twins.

The two fifteen-year-old girls were actually quite different though. Audrey thought about having fun before she thought about the consequences of her actions; Annette liked to have fun as long as it was guaranteed she wouldn't get into trouble. Annette struggled to maintain good grades; Audrey breezed through her classes and didn't work if she didn't have to. Annette found it easy to make and keep friends; Audrey was good at making friends, not so good at keeping them. Despite their differences—and there were a great many differences—they still managed to get along fairly well.

In the summer, the twins spent their days outdoors, playing in the town of Ottery St. Catchpole. It was a Muggle town, so they couldn't fly brooms outdoors or brew mystical potions, but it didn't bother them much because they had lived without knowing they were witches for the first ten years of their lives. Their parents were Muggles you see.

On this particular Tuesday, the two girls were at the post at the end of the main street in town. During the school season, this post was home to a dozen or so stoners, but the summer weather proved too hot for them, so they retreated to the depths of their basements leaving Audrey and Annette free to hang out by the post. With them, they had a bag of Jelly Bellies which they tried to guess the flavors of despite the fact that they would never taste as good as Bertie Bott's.

"Um, raspberry?" Audrey asked, spitting the chewy candy into the grass. She liked to guess the flavors but absolutely despised getting the candies stuck in her teeth.

"Correct!" Annette said. Audrey grabbed the box and handed one to Annette who chewed, swallowed, and thought for a minute about what flavor it might be. "Er…pinapple?" she finally guessed.

"No, that was pina colada!" Audrey said showing her sister the back of the box.

"Ah, rookie mistake!" said a voice from behind them. Audrey whipped her head to locate the source of the voice. It was a redheaded boy, tall and lean and another boy who appeared to be his twin, or someone that looked an awfully lot like him.

"Well George," one of them said to the other, presumably named George. "Isn't this a lucky coincidence? We came into town looking to make a friend, and here we've met two pretty ladies. Though, I haven't seen you two anywhere before. Where do you go to school?"

Audrey glanced quickly at her sister. She assumed the two boys were Muggles, and she couldn't really explain that they were both witches and went to school for wizards and witches called Beauxbatons that was in France. They just wouldn't understand.

"St. Roch's All-Girls Preparatory School," Annette said on cue. For someone who followed the rules so strictly that she never once neglected to brush her teeth before bed, Annette was an awfully good liar.

"That would explain it," George said. From out of nowhere, he pulled out a deck of playing cards and began to shuffle them. Audrey noted that he was very good at it. Shuffling cards was a skill she had never quite mastered.

"It's almost like real magic," she breathed, as one of the twins flicked the deck of cards and they landed in a perfect stack on the ground in order.

The other twin laughed. Audrey wondered if, perhaps, they were using real magic. She didn't have the guts to ask though, for fear of being hounded by the Ministry for breaking the International Statute of Secrecy.

"So, ladies," Fred said suavely. Audrey giggled inwardly. "We were thinking about grabbing a bite at this little place in London tonight, if you'd like to be our dates?"

"Oh, sure!" Audrey said impulsively. She liked the two boys, and it was nice to make friends with someone that wasn't Annette.

"I don't know, Audrey," Annette said shyly. "London isn't exactly close and Mum and Dad—"

"Annette, Annette, Annette," Audrey said three times so that it sunk in. "Do you really want to spend your whole life paying attention to our parents? You're not going to be living with them for the rest of your life. On the other hand, you might really hit it off with, uh, Fred, and you might be living with him for the rest of your life. Which do you choose?"

"Why did you coerce me into this?" Annette grumbled, hours later. For the millionth time that night, she smoothed down the front of her dress. They were standing on a street corner in the middle of London, where the boys had said they'd be.

Audrey disregarded the question and moved on to a new topic she was dying to discuss with Annette. "Do you think Fred and George are wizards?"

"What, no!" Annette said. "And don't bring it up around them, we don't want to get in trouble with the ministry."

"Hello," said the one that Audrey thought was George, tapping her on the shoulder. She turned and started at him. He was wearing a navy blue sweater with a large golden "G" on the front of it. Definitely George. "I brought you something." He held up a pink rose for her.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed, accepting it. Fred casually gestured with his head to a bush in front of an office with roses identical to the one he had given Audrey. Audrey rolled her eyes, but laughed.

"Don't tell Annette you did that," Audrey whispered in George's ear. "She already doesn't want to be here."

Needless to say, Fred gave Annette a pink rose as well—without telling her they had picked it two seconds prior—and Annette seemed to warm up a little to the idea of a double date. By the time they had gotten to the appetizers, Annette was rolling in the booth with laughter.

Audrey had determined that Fred was the kind of person whose jokes were blatantly obvious and consistently hilarious. George was more subdued, like Audrey herself, but whenever he did joke about something, he was always equally as funny as Fred, if not more.

"Uh, Annette, bathroom," Audrey said suddenly.

"Aw, Audrey, do I have to?" Annette whined, wiping her face with her napkin, but getting out of the booth obediently.

"Don't you two stick us with the bill," Fred said winking, fully aware that he would be the one who ended up paying anyway.

"We'll be back," Annette giggled girlishly. Audrey rolled her eyes and shook her head pitifully and dragged Annette to the bathroom: the girl needed to get out of the house more often.

"Okay," Audrey said. "We're switching dresses."

"Why?" Annette asked. One thing about Annette: she couldn't just go along with any plan unless she knew what it was and what the outcome might be.

"Do you want Fred and George to think we're a couple of prudes?" Audrey asked. She locked herself into a stall, and unzipped her dress. Once she stepped out of it, she threw it over the top of the stall at Annette so that Annette would have no choice but to switch dresses with her. "We're going to trick them into thinking I'm you and you're me. Hurry up!"

Audrey heard the stall door next to her lock, and seconds later a piece of green fabric came flying at her from above. "It'll be funny," she said sliding the dress over her head. "Help me zip up?"

Once they were all dressed and their hair was brushed down to a normal level again, they reentered the main dining room. The rest of the dinner passed in relative calmness. George struck up a conversation with Annette, and Fred and Audrey talked for a long while about _candy_ of all topics.

"Ever tried an earwax flavored bean?" Fred asked.

"What?" Audrey asked. "Wait, that's a Bertie Bott's flavor. You _are_ a wizard!"

Fred suddenly looked alarmed. "Shhh! Don't tell anyone. Muggles aren't aloud to—"

"Hey, it's okay, I'm a witch. So is Annette," Audrey said grinning. "We actually go to Beauxbatons because our cousin is a teacher there. I knew those card tricks were too good to be real!"

Fred slapped his hand to the middle of his forehead. "Busted. Now I can't use that trick on the Muggle girls in town."

"Who says there'll be other girls?" Audrey asked flirtatiously.

"Well, seeing as I'm a liar, can't shuffle cards to save my life, and I come with an annoying twin brother, I'm not sure you'd want to go out with me again," Fred said, hanging his head dramatically.

"Oh that's not true," Audrey said smiling.

"Er, Annette," Annette said to Audrey. "We have to get going. Mum and Dad said to be back by ten."

Fred escorted Audrey out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk in front of it. Nighttime had already set over the city of London. George walked with Annette a little bit apart from Audrey and Fred.

"There's something I have to tell you," Audrey said, trying to sound aloof and failing miserably. Fred stared into her eyes, and she felt her heart give a small flutter. Her cheeks glowed with warmth.

"Wait," Fred said. He quickly pulled her close and stooped down to kiss her on the lips. Audrey tilted her head up and welcomed it. A million thoughts rushed through her head while she was kissing him. Was she doing it right? Was she good at it? Did she put on too much lip-gloss? What happens next? Audrey ended up putting her arms around Fred's neck, and when they broke apart, she hugged him close and put her head on his shoulder. He smelled like a mixture of cologne, restaurant, and a mystery smell that she could not place, but liked anyway. "Just wanted to get that out of the way before you told me you hated me," Fred said numbly. "Though, judging by the way you just kissed me you don't hate me, do you, Annette?"

Audrey still had her arms around Fred when she looked up at him again. "I just wanted to say that…I'm not Annette. I'm Audrey."

Fred raised his eyebrows. "I'm so sorry, have I been getting your name wrong all night?"

"No, Annette and I switched outfits midway through dinner to play a little prank on you two. We didn't want you to think we weren't as funny as you. I guess it didn't exactly work out," Audrey said.

Fred chuckled softly. "That would explain the sudden personality change midway through dinner. I'll admit I couldn't have thought of a better prank myself. But I have something to say too."

"What?" Audrey asked, fearing he would say something awful.

"I'm actually George," he said. "Fred and _I _changed sweaters when you two went to the bathroom."

"Great minds think alike I suppose," Audrey recited, hugging Fred—wait George—again.

* * *

><p>"What!" Percy said furiously. He had not gotten a break all night. "I finally find the one witch in the whole wide world that is smart, pretty, and has not dated any of you—" he gestured to all of his brothers, "And it turns out she has! I might just kill you George!"<p>

"Sorry, Perce," Audrey grinned.

"Yeah, sorry Perce," George repeated. "I probably shouldn't tell you how long we actually ended up dating."

"How long!" Percy exclaimed.

"Until the end of the summer," Audrey said simply, though she knew it would kill Percy to know that.

"What!" Percy shouted again, apparently at a loss for words.

"Hey, you're cute when you're being all competitive," Audrey said leaning over the edge of her chair to kiss him. "By the way, that date we had was in late August, so 'till the end of summer' was actually only a week."

Percy seemed to calm down a bit. A kiss from Audrey always took away any negative feelings he had.

"That leaves you, George," Percy said glaring at George, though he could hardly be seen in the remaining embers of the fire.

"Fine, fine," George said immodestly. "But I'll have you know that my kiss is the best of them all."

"Save the best for last," Hermione said, stealing the last sip from her glass of Firewhiskey. "It'd better be good."

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><p>AN: Here it is! The one you've all been waiting for, Audrey's! I hope you liked my interpretation of her; we don't really know that much about her, but I did my best. I think it's safe to say that, out of all the Weasley's, Percy is highly competitive and would absolutely hate being outdid by any of his siblings.

So I know that the scene where Fred and George went to flirt with a girl in town happened in the Half-Blood Prince, but I am somewhat challenged when it comes to dates and ages, so if this doesn't add up to the correct years or dates, then I'm dreadfully sorry. Please leave a review if you so desire, and I can't thank you guys enough for actually reading my stories. Bye!

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><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	11. George Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

George sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, munching slowly on his Cocoa Curses. After two weeks at Hogwarts, most of the teachers still couldn't tell him apart from his twin brother George. There was one noticeable difference though: George arose from his bed much earlier than Fred, much earlier than most of the students actually. He had gotten into the habit of waking with the sun when he'd arrived at Hogwarts, and it never quite wore off.

He raised his silver spoon to his mouth but nearly missed because he was admiring a girl sitting a few feet down from him, his first Hogwarts crush. Angelina Johnson was hard to describe in just one word, but if he had to choose one it would be "awesome." Take today, for example. Today Angelina was wearing her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck. Pieces of it were sticking in every direction, but she didn't seem to mind. She was poring over the pages of a book called _Rumpelstiltskin _of which he had never heard. Every so often she would look down the table and smile kindly at George who would quickly avert his gaze. Although he knew her from classes and the two got on fairly well, George wouldn't yet call them friends. His new goal was to become friends with Angelina Johnson.

His daydream was interrupted by an exuberant Fred, who slammed his hand down on the table in front of George moments later. George was always happy to see his twin brother and scheme about what trouble they may or may no be getting themselves in to that day.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Fred asked, brightly. Although George was the early riser, Fred was the one who was more energetic when he woke up, and at this particular moment he was bursting with excitement.

George screwed his face up in concentration as if he were receiving a telepathic message from Fred. "How many times do I have to tell you this, Fred?" George sighed sarcastically. "Just because we're twins doesn't mean we share the same brain! I can't read your mind!"

"Really?" Fred asked. "Because I was thinking about a pretty girl, whom I fancy."

"Dang, I guess we were thinking the same thing," George said, stirring the remaining chocolate-colored milk in his bowl. "Now tell me, were you also thinking about drawing a mustache on the Fat Lady's portrait? Because if you were, then we might actually share a brain."

"No," said Fred, spreading blue jam on a piece of toast and shoving it in his mouth. George waited patiently for him to chew and swallow. "I was actually thinking that it would benefit us to actually kiss these girls before we get old and grey and all Filch-looking."

"Fine. When we get back to the common room after dinner tonight, we'll both have kissed a girl. Deal?" George asked placing his palm in the middle of the table between him and Fred.

"Deal," said Fred placing his hand on George's. They released their hands at the same time in some sort of cheer-ritual. "But I totally call dibs on Moaning Myrtle."

George rolled his eyes. Not Fred's best joke. George couldn't wait until Charms that morning. Flitwick always gave them free time at the end of class, which would be the perfect time to kiss the lovely goddess-like woman that was Angelina.

Charms came sooner than George had anticipated. He was suddenly feeling nervous, a sensation he did not often experience. His palms were so sweaty that when he picked up his wand to try and levitate the feather on the desk in front of him, it shot out of his hand and poked Professor Flitwick in the belly quite hard, the poor dwarf. His heart was racing so fast that it threatened to jump out of his chest and across the room if he didn't do something. And his mouth was tingling so badly that he could barely get a word out to anyone, much less Angelina.

"Hey," he told her, halfway through class. "Um, you're doing really well charming that feather."

"Thanks," Angelina said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. George looked at the feather again to see that it was emitting a green smoke and a foul odor.

He decided he'd avoid her until after class. Eventually the bell rang to signify class was over. The class gathered their things and quickly raced out. Angelina was one of the last to leave.

"Weasley?" Flitwick asked. "Will you come here a moment?" Both of the twins looked up at the professor. "Er, George sorry."

"See, ya," Fred muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder and exiting the classroom.

"Professor?" George asked Flitwick nervously. Standing at his full height on top of his desk, he was only a few inches taller than George who was of strictly average height.

"Are you feeling okay, Weasley?" Flitwick asked in concern. "You seemed nervous today. If the coursework is becoming too challenging perhaps you can come in before class."

"It's not that," George said looking down at the laces of his trainers. "It's…well…a girl."

"Ah the gift that a woman has. To lasso one's heart and never let go," Flitwick stated poetically. "Just so you know, Angelina is a nice girl. She won't bite unless you provoke her."

"Thanks, professor," George said. He could feel color shooting toward his face. He dragged his bag onto his shoulder and hurried out of the classroom. He felt suddenly brave enough to talk to Angelina, and he wanted to catch up with her before the halls became too crowded.

When he entered the corridor, he saw Angelina standing at the other end of it, talking animatedly to someone who was partially concealed behind a large column. She let out a loud cackle that made George want to bust up laughing as he walked toward her.

A pair of hands—the hands of the person that she was talking to—reached out and hugged her. She hugged back. This made George walk faster, wondering whom it was that was hugging Angelina. Finally the two came into view. And they weren't just hugging. He walked around the large column to find Angelina lip-locked with his own twin brother.

George wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at Fred and beat him up for taking his girl. Veritably, he hadn't actually told Fred that he fancied the tall gorgeous Angelina, but still! If there was one time he actually wished he and his brother shared a brain, it would be now.

George was actually feeling quite ill. Too much lovey-dovey did not sit well on an eleven-year-old's stomach. When he swallowed, the sickly taste of bile coated the inside of his mouth letting him know that his breakfast was not going to remain in his stomach much longer.

Before he could embarrass himself by tossing his cookies in the hall, he rushed to the nearest loo, not caring if it was the boys or the girls—for the record it was the girls restroom. He banged into a stall and sat down thrusting his head at the inside of the toilet. The feeling had passed, but his stomach still felt queasy, so he remained seated. Funny thing, staring at the inside of a Hogwarts toilet made him feel just as ill as watching...nevermind. And feeling ill made him want to cry, so he did. Thank goodness no one else was in the bathroom.

Almost the instant a tear splashed in the toilet bowl, a silver head popped out and stared at him. George leaped off of the ground and backed into a corner of the stall, pushing the door shut in his efforts.

"Oh don't worry," the voice whined bitterly. "I'm not even important enough to haunt my own house. All I can do is cry and get called names and haunt the girls' bathrooms. Speaking of which, the last time I saw a _boy _in the _girls _restrooms was, well, what are you doing here? Besides moaning I mean."

A ghost emerged from the toilet and sat herself on top of the stall door.

"Puking," George said. "Are you Moaning Myrtle?" He'd heard stories about her from other Gryffindor girls, but he hadn't yet seen the whiny ghost.

"I prefer Myrtle Pimbleburg, but if you must," she said rolling her eyes. "Want to tell me why you were crying? It helps my self-esteem to know that other wizards live just as _tortured _lives as I do." With that she burst into tears. George finally understood her name.

"Well, er," George raised his voice to be heard over her loud sobs. "This girl I like, er, just kissed my twin brother."

"Oh that sucks," Myrtle said. "I think I'd kill myself if that happened. Oh wait, I'm already dead." She started crying again, and George realized how superficial of a person she was—and that was not because she was a ghost.

He started to walk out of the stall, but again Myrtle stopped him. "Wait! Don't leave! There's a girl out there!"

George paused and peeked through the crack between the stall door and the wall. Indeed there was a girl, standing at the sink. It was Angelina.

"That's her!" he whispered to Myrtle excitedly.

"Ugh, the agony of happiness! It burns!" Myrtle cried dramatically. "I can't spend all day with you, kid. I hear someone crying on the fifth floor." With that she flushed the toilet, and exited the bathroom in the swirling water. A moan echoed out with her.

George opened the stall door and worked up the courage to go to over to Angelina.

"What are you doing in here, George?" Angelina asked, but she didn't seem mad.

George pointed to his stomach. "Thought I was gonna hurl."

"Okay, eww," she said. She turned on the water and began to wash her hands. George waited until she was finished drying them.

"You'll never believe what just happened," she said.

"Wanna bet?" asked George.

"Your twin brother just _kissed _me," Angelina said. Her voice was a mixture of pride and displeasure, as most first year kisses go.

"Did you like it?" George asked.

"No," Angelina admitted. "Maybe when I'm older. I don't understand why adults find it so interesting."

"Oh, well, you're going to hate me," George said.

"Why?" Angelina asked.

George grinned, and even though she saw it coming, she didn't duck fast enough. George placed his lips on hers and pulled her tight. A second later, Angelina had wrestled herself free from his hug and kiss. He winked at her and ran before she beat the you-know-what out of him.

* * *

><p>"ANGELINA!" Alicia screeched at the top of her lungs. "She never even told me! I thought we were best friends, but apparently not!"<p>

"Here I was thinking you were going to kiss Myrtle!" Percy said loudly, trying to outdo Alicia's cries.

"Eww, Perce. I'm not…YOU!" George cried.

"Oh my head!" Hermione said. "Can we please be quieter? My poor little head cannot take this screaming."

"Hermione has trouble handling her alcohol, guys," Harry said. "But not from lack of experience…"

"Harry!" Hermione cried. "I drank way less than you tonight!"

Apparently the Firewhiskey had gone straight to everyone's heads. Soon everyone was arguing and shouting, and they were only subdued when the shrill whistle of Fleur Delacour nearly burned their ears out.

"You've just woken up half of England," she shouted, calming everyone down. "And your parents." She pointed to the window on the fourth floor which now had a light turned on. They all followed the trail of lights in the Burrow as they turned on in the third floor hallway, then the second, then the ground. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were running at them full speed across the grassy lawn. They all held their giggles in at the sight of their parents running at them full-speed at night in nothing but their pajamas. Thank goodness their house was the only one for miles.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "You guys sounded like you were seven years old again!"

"We were just sharing the stories of our first kisses, Mum," Bill said, placing his chin on his hand and staring up at her with the big blue eyes she couldn't say no to. "Will you tell us yours?"

"Pretty please?" everyone else chimed in.

"All right, but give me a chair," Molly said. They conjured a chair for Molly and one for Arthur, and they all waited with bated breath for her to begin.

* * *

><p>AN: I know George actually ends married to Angelina according to that family tree of JK Rowling's, but I _really_ don't like that pairing. It seems that on FanFiction he gets paired up with Alicia just as often, as is true in this story. So to at least reference canon, I made George have his first kiss with Angelina—besides Katie was a year behind them in the books, so she wouldn't have been around for this. I hope that's all right. Pretty please leave a review. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like them. Thanks!

And I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to as many reviews lately, my Internet connection lately has had exactly 1/2 a bar. Don't worry, I still read them all, and I really appreciate your thoughts!

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><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


	12. Molly Prewett and Arthur Weasley

_**Kiss Me, I'm A Gryffindor**_

Arthur Weasley hurried down the hall frantically. He didn't want to be caught out of bed after hours, especially after he had just been dumped. He didn't quite know how to feel. Of course he hadn't wanted to be dumped. What guy ever does? And they had only been boyfriend and girlfriend since fifth period Charms class. He hadn't liked Laura Kinney all that much to begin with. Sure she was cute, but one he had hung out with her for two hours, he realized she was extremely vain and only cared about girlish things like clothes and popularity. He wasn't quite sure why he had agreed to go out with her in the first place, though he suspected being the only Gryffindor fourth year without a girlfriend had something to do with it. Now he had just been dumped, and it wasn't a feeling he necessarily wanted to experience ever again.

He scampered down the hall quickly and quietly so that no one would hear him. He was extra cautious not to wake the portraits that lined the corridors: they were prone to anger quickly if woken, especially at three in the morning.

That was another thing Arthur didn't understand. Why had Laura needed to break up with him at three in the morning? To avoid embarrassment sure, but Hogwarts was so big that they could have found somewhere quiet to go in the afternoon when Arthur was actually awake. He hadn't really been that bad of a boyfriend had he?

He jumped at every sound on his way back to Gryffindor Tower. One could never be too cautious when sneaking around a large castle at night, and he really didn't need another detention. If a knight reached up to scratch its nose, Arthur would jump behind a tapestry or a statue and hide. He knew he was being extremely careful, but the last detention he had gotten resulted in Filch hanging him by his knickers from an unlit torch for a whole hour before Dumbledore found them and let Arthur go.

He turned the corner in front of the entrance hall to see Peeves, the school's poltergeist, suspending a bucket of what looked like chocolate syrup above the grand staircase. The last thing Arthur wanted was for Peeves to know he was out at night. Peeves couldn't resist being obnoxiously loud when students were out of bed too late. He didn't want to embarrass himself any more that night.

Instead, he stood frozen at the end of the hall, hardly daring to move for fear of catching Peeves's attention. Arthur waited for what seemed like hours—at the most five minutes—while Peeves went about his business. From the way he was situated, he began to get a Charlie horse in his leg, but he didn't dare move an inch for fear of being caught.

It came from behind him so quickly that he thought he was going to die. Suddenly there was a hand on his mouth and one around his waist, and they were holding on so tightly that he couldn't have escaped even if he tried. He opened his eyes wide when the person, he assumed it was a person, dragged him to the middle of the entrance hall.

He couldn't have predicted anything more accurately. Peeves saw them immediately and came swooping silently toward them. The person let go of her death grip on him, and he took a moment to regain his balance.

"Students out of their beds?" Peeves cackled.

"Shut up, Peeves! It's only me!" A familiar voice scolded. The figure, dressed in all black, lowered her hood and Arthur saw a mane of red hair escape from it. It was Molly Prewett.

"Oh…hi, Molly," Peeves said getting quieter. He swooped down to the ground and sat down on the nearest gargoyle. Arthur wondered what was happening. He wondered why Molly Weasley was dressed in all black and why she was holding him hostage. And he also wondered why Peeves wasn't making her life miserable like he did to all the other students at Hogwarts.

"What's—" Arthur began.

"I'll explain later," said Molly. She turned her attention back to Peeves who was still atop the gargoyle, looking very interested in what she had to say. "Let's just say John Fowler won't be brushing his teeth with toothpaste tomorrow. He might even find that his toothbrush can't be removed from his face without some serious magical aid."

Peeves cackled his evil prankster laugh. "Nice one, Molly. He totally deserved it. What exactly did he do to you again? Doesn't matter I guess, just as long as the ickle-studykins are a-sufferin'." Peeves swooped around the top of the entrance hall's chandelier once and whooshed out of sight.

"Come with me," Molly said quietly, leading him to the grand doorway that took them to the grounds of Hogwarts. Despite its size it was surprisingly light and agile. She pulled it open and Arthur followed her out, wondering what the Gryffindor, who was only a year older than him, had in mind.

They walked across the pitch-black grounds, Molly a little farther ahead than Arthur.

"So what do you want to know?" Molly asked. She was walking fairly quickly, and Arthur was forced to almost jog to keep up with her.

"Er," Arthur began. He was so confused that he didn't know _what_ exactly he wanted to know.

"I see," Molly said. She launched into an explanation that Arthur had to pay close attention to understand. "Okay, well, Peeves likes me because I sometimes help him play pranks on first years. Tonight I was putting permanent sticking gel in my ex-boyfriend-of-one-day-stupid-John-Fowler's toothpaste container. I was just finishing up when I ran in to your petrified little body in the middle of the entrance hall corridor, and I thought it'd be fun to rescue a 'damsel in distress' or whatever. And I know you from somewhere, don't I? You're a Gryffindor. You're a year behind me."

Arthur was still processing what she had said before he finally replied with, "Wait, did you just call me a damsel? Isn't that a girl?"

Molly laughed. "You're kind of cute when you only just now realize that I called you a girl."

Arthur made a face at her that would never be seen in the darkness. Her comment was just a little bit condescending. Although he could make out that they were walking along the edge of the Black Lake toward the Forbidden Forest.

A minute later Molly stopped dead in her tracks. Arthur nearly fell over trying to avoid running into her. She turned to face him even though they couldn't see anything in the pitch-black night.

"Was that rude of me?" She asked. She looked sad. Arthur didn't know what to say. He suddenly felt very nervous, and it wasn't just because he didn't know what was going to happen next. "Ugh! It was!" she exclaimed like she was reprimanding herself for something. "I tend to do that. I'm so stupid!"

"What?" Arthur asked, feeling daring. "What are you talking about? You're not stupid."

"That's why Fowler broke up with me," Molly said. She slumped down onto the ground at Arthur's feet. "He said I was rude to him."

"That's not true!" Arthur said. He sat down gingerly on the muddy banks of the Black Lake. His foot slipped and he slid, getting the back of his school robes completely soiled. "Want to know something?"

Molly stared blankly across the lake, which was even blacker in the nighttime. "What, Weasley?"

Arthur felt a warm glow shoot across his cheeks, and was thankful it was too dark to see anything. "Laura Kinney dumped me right before I ran into you."

"You were dating Kinney?" Molly asked. "I'm surprised! I would have thought someone as ho—you could do better than her you know."

"None of the other fourth year girls think so," Arthur said limply.

"Who said you have to date a fourth year?" Molly asked. He thought he felt her hand brush against his, but it was probably just an accident. "You know what. Kinney and Fowler could burn in a fire for all I care. We don't need them." She picked up a rock on the shore and tossed it with a fulfilling thud into the lake. "Burn in hell John Fowler."

Arthur felt along the ground until he found a rock of his own. Tossing into the lake he said in verbatim, "Burn in hell Laura Kinney…you know, I don't really feel like getting dumped ever again, Molly Prewett."

"I don't really feel like getting dumped either, Arthur Weasley."

Arthur sat next to her for a few minutes in the darkness. Was this the moment he was supposed to kiss her? Or the moment that the werewolf comes out from behind the trees and kills them both? He felt Molly's hand wind its way into hers, and this time it was definitely not an accident.

He saw the silhouette of her head and her curly red hair turning toward him slowly. One of her hands reached out and touched his face, and the other stayed clasping his hand, which was feeling very hot and sweaty all of a sudden. Her face didn't just stop when it turned toward him; it kept coming. Arthur went slightly cross-eyed before he finally realized what was happening.

Molly Prewett kissed Arthur Weasley at exactly three forty-seven in the morning on third day of March in Arthur's fourth year. It was a nice kiss, he supposed. At least they could only get better and better.

"I really do think you're cute, Arthur," Molly said, lying down on the muddy ground. This time Arthur knew she was being completely truthful, not an ounce of condescending. It warmed his heart to hear that.

"I think you're cute too," he said. Then he yawned. He might have been in the presence of the most beautiful girl in Gryffindor, at Hogwarts, in the whole world, but even that couldn't stop him from feeling tired. He was only fourteen, and it _was_ three in the morning.

Molly yawned too. Yawns were infectious like that.

Arthur lay down too. After a moment, he wondered if Molly was still awake. He didn't want to be the first one to get up and go to bed. He didn't know that Molly was lying there too, thinking exactly the same thing. They lay like that for hours, until finally they both drifted off to a happy sleep.

They were only awoken hours later in the rosy pink sunlight, when the gamekeeper, Mr. Plumburg, gave them a harsh yelling for being out of bed. Even though Arthur, covered in mud, was being yanked back to the castle behind Molly, he knew it was worth it. He was right. They were still together seven kids and a million memories later.

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><p>A collective "awww," was murmured from everyone sitting around the last few sparks of the fire.<p>

Molly and Arthur looked modestly down at their laps, both concealing smiles.

"I didn't know you two were all un-parent-y before you had us," Bill said. "Does this mean we're going to turn into you guys when we have this baby?"

"Most likely," Molly said with a twinkle in her eye. "The number of kids you have directly correlates to the amount of wisdom you possess."

"It's why your mother and I are so smart," Arthur said with a twinkle in his eye.

"However having more kids does not make you any more mature," Molly said. "Which is why I'm letting you drink that Firewhiskey even though you know how bad it is for you. What were you thinking?"

Everyone looked a little bit guilty, and the empty bottle rolled out from under a chair on the opposite side of the fire.

"You know," Molly said, doing a charm to refill the bottle a bit. "You were clever to hide that bottle from me. Like I couldn't smell it on your breath."

She poured a small glass of the stuff and took a sip.

"Just so you know, Arthur and I could hear you from our bedroom. You guys aren't quiet," she continued. "Your first kiss was classy, Ron."

Ron looked embarrassedly at his feet. Molly had a knack for hitting just the right nerves in her children to make them feel guilty. It was a small guilty pleasure of hers.

"Well that was fun," Harry said, getting up from his chair and tripping slightly over it as he started to gather everything up. The fire was put out and everyone was a little slower than usual getting back to the house. Fleur finally made it to a standing position, and then she sort of waddled back to the kitchen door of the Burrow.

"You guys are all staying here tonight," Molly said when they all meandered back to the brightly lit kitchen. "I'd be a horrible mother if I let you drink and Floo."

"Yeah, yeah," everyone agreed, going to their respective bedrooms. The next morning they would wake up with ten of the biggest Firewhiskey hangovers ever, but for now they were content.

"We need to tell stories more often," Harry muttered to Ron at the top of the staircase next to Ginny's room.

"Yeah, I'd love to hear about everyone's second kisses," Ron said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder how Hermione can even stand you, mate," Harry said grinning.

"Me too," Ron said, continuing up the stairs. "Maybe I should…you know."

Harry raised his eyebrows, and Ron turned and paused midway up the stairs.

"Well, er, you know!" Ron said nervously. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Maybe I should, er…pop the question."

"You want to marry her?" Harry asked quietly, both intrigued and impressed.

"Yeah. Yes, I think I do," Ron said. "I think I want to marry Hermione Granger.

"Don't tell me, mate, tell Hermione," Harry said, nervous for Ron's sake.

"Okay, I will!" Ron said, starting to run up the stairs. Harry leapt after him and almost had to tackle him to stop him.

"Don't be a wanker! You can't ask her now!" Harry said to Ron.

"And why not?" Ron said crossing his arms.

"First, you're drunk. Second, it's one in the morning, and she's probably already asleep in Ginny's room. And third, you have to do it right—when you wake her up at one in the morning in your sister's bedroom and drunkenly ask her to marry you is not the right way to propose," Harry explained firmly.

"I suppose," said Ron wistfully. "But tomorrow, okay? Will you help me propose to Hermione tomorrow? I love her, and I want to roll over in my bed every night and see her as my wife. And—"

"Okay, Ron, you cheese-ball." Harry said sending his best mate up to bed. "You obviously can't handle alcohol all that well, and I don't want to hear you babble my ear off all night, so goodnight."

"Night, Harry," Ron said, sounding like a little kid telling his parents goodnight.

"Goodnight, Won-Won," Harry said, grinning and following him up the stairs to his room.

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><p>AN: And our little story comes to a close. :( Now how do I put this without making it sound like I'm advertising—which I totally am—if you enjoyed this story, you may enjoy some of my other stories which can be found by clicking on my name at the top there. I hope you had a nice time reading this story. I've totally had it finished for a week, but my lack of an internet connection hindered me. (Excuses, excuses.) It has been nice getting to know you guys these past twelve chapters. We can listen to "So Very Hard To Go" and eat cookie dough in our pajamas if you want. I'm going to ask you one last time to please leave a review. It's the only way I'll know what you thought…Bye.

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><p>Ugh, sorry for all the errors with their names, guys. There are just too many to keep track of them all in my head. Thanks to SmartyPants1493 for pointing them out!<p>

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><p><strong>Sammie<strong>


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